


A Future Uncertain

by LightsWrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Suspense, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 81,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightsWrites/pseuds/LightsWrites
Summary: Hermione uses a spell to experience her future, but what will happen once she gets back to the real world? Will she accept the life she has or will she wonder forever what could have been? New friends will try to protect her from herself, but will she be able to protect her friends when they are faced with danger?





	1. Answers

This is set in their seventh year of Hogwarts, and the war has ended.

Chapter 1: Finding Answers

"Hermione! Bloody hell, are you even listening to me?" Ron's face was starting to get a red tint in frustration. "You have to drink the potion!"

"I will, _Ronald._ I simply don't see why anyone would want to see the future, even after knowing it's a future that you could never possibly have once you've seen it," she snapped. "What if its something I would have wanted for myself and then I can't have it... and only after three days of experiencing it? I don't want to have knowingly taken away that option."

She glared at the spell and read it once more.

_ After drinking the potion one must complete the spell in order to foresee what could have been. _

_Foresee what could have been? That already sounds terrible! Why would anyone want that?_

_ Once you have arrived in your future, you will no longer have the possibility of this future. This spell chooses a future at random, and has no bearing on what the caster may have wanted in the future. However, many wizards and witches still find the spell to give clarity with their divination adventures afterward. _

Ron had gotten quite good at divination over the years, and as a seventh year student, he said that he wanted to try something more advanced. He still needed help with making the potion. That's where Hermione came in. She had no doubts that she would be able to make the potion correctly, and they would both surely be able to handle the spell, but she still had doubts of the practicality of this. She was downright angry when he had originally brought the spell to her, but after weeks of him talking about how much it would mean to him, her resolve had crumbled, and she had finally caved in. That didn't mean she had to like it.

"We've been through this, it's only three days, and even if it's a ‘ _potential future that has been taken away_ ’ as you like to put it, you may still be able to have a similar one." Ron gave her a smile and laughed lightly. "Are you worried you won't be able to have a future with me after this?"

She smiled, although still a little worried.

"Fine, but this won't mess up time in the _real_ world will it?"

"Don't worry Mione, you'll be back in time for your Charms exam."

Hermione sighed. Ron and her had been dating for just a few months now, and he'd been uninterested in her academic pursuits. She was silently hoping that after this he would make a better attempt to be involved in her interests.

"I'll see you in three days," she said, giving a small smile and downing the potion. "Procul futurae." And with a flick of her wand, she was gone. 

Hermione landed softly on a bed with green silk sheets and a plush white comforter. The walls were a bright yellow, and the room had little room for more than the two dressers and the bed. She walked over to the taller traditional wooden dresser, opening the first drawer she found an assortment of silk boxers in various colours.

_This doesn't look like something that Ron would wear,_ she thought. She shut the drawer and opened the bedroom door. In front of her was a small living room with light blue walls with one brick-accent wall with two windows on it. The living room had a kitchen attached to it with barely any transition to even say it was a separate room. It felt more like a living room with a kitchen set up in the corner, but by no means looked cheap. On the contrary, she thought it enhanced how comfortable the room looked, and the traditional furniture gave it a sophisticated touch.

After looking for evidence of the anonymous inhabitant she discovered a two things: They didn't have a single picture in the house. And the apartment was in the muggle part of London.

After waiting around a few minutes, she became increasingly jittery. What is there to do in unfamiliar territory with no one around? Figuring she would be home alone for quite some time, she took her wand out of her pocket, acciod her keys and jacket, and left to find answers. Hermione walked down three flights of stairs, standing at the ground floor was a lone door adorned with a simple plaque.

Oella Leasing

Landlord: Grant Waters

She knocked on the door and shifted nervously. _How am I going to ask questions without seeming like a crazy person?_ Before she could turn around and go back up the stairs to plan out a way to ask questions about her now-life, the door opened.

A tall, quite good looking man, with dusty blonde hair and brown eyes opened the door. He looked to be in his late twenties and had a friendly demeanor. He looked Hermione up and down and smiled, "Well, if it isn't Miss Tooth. I don't think you've knocked on my door since you moved in two years ago. What can I do for you?" Hermione looked at him confused for a few moments.

_Miss tooth? Am I in hiding? This is exactly the reason I didn’t want to use the spell in the first place. I may be in danger now._ After glancing over her shoulders to see if she was being watched, she turned to the man in front of her.

"Oh... uh. Yes, Mr..." she glanced at the name on the door, "Waters, I was wondering if I could have a copy of the lease. I've seemed to have misplaced mine and figured I should have some sort of documentation for future reference."

Hermione saw a flash of disappointment before he turned around and ruffled through the file cabinet. He hadn't invited her in, so she stood in the doorway awkwardly looking at the paint chipping on the corner of the door leading outside.

"Beverly?" he asked a little unsure.

_Is he taking to me?_

Hermione turned her attention back to the handsome man, "Oh, uh... pardon me, I'm just a little hungry. Are there any cafes you would recommend near by?"

"Actually, I'm feeling a little hungry myself. There's a sandwich shop about two blocks from here. May I could join you?" He looked a little too eager, but Hermione needed answers.

"That would be lovely. Do you have my lease?"

He smiled brightly and handed her a folder, "Wait a moment while I get my coat."

The trip to the cafe was short, and Grant asked quite a few questions about her personal life that made her uneasy. She was starting to wonder if she could live three days not knowing anything about her past and get away with it. The room was small and there was only one, overwhelmed, waitress attending all the tables. She glanced at the newcomers and walked over to their table.

The waitress, Shelby, rolled her eyes and grimaced, "What can I get for you?"

Before Hermione could answer Grant smirked at the waitress, "We'll have two turkey sandwiches." With a glare aimed at Hermione, the waitress turned on her heel and departed. "So, does Ferris know you're here?"

Hermione assumed that was the man she was living with and thought of a quick lie. "Uh, well he knew I would be getting the lease today, but I haven't had the time to tell him we're out to lunch, obviously."

A dark look flickered over his face, and she felt as if the room was just a little smaller. She looked away and fiddled with the hem of her navy blue skirt and amended her lie, "Actually, he's going to be home within the hour, so maybe we should get this food to go?"

"Hm... I suppose." He enunciated each word slowly. "If that's what you want"

Looking past Hermione, he yelled, "Shelby!"

Turning angrily at the rude call, the waitress hissed, "Yes, _Grant_?"

About five minutes of small talk about how he had become a landlord at such a young age (a gift from his father), and learning why the waitress seemed angry with them (a relationship that ended poorly), their food arrived packed and ready to go.

Hermione and Grant walked in silence until they arrived at the complex. Their lunch hadn’t answered any of the questions she had, and she was feeling more uncomfortable as the time passed.

"Beverly?"

At this, she turned, wanting desperately to run back into her apartment and stay there until her mystery man arrived home.

"Remember my door is always open for you," he said, giving her a wink. The wink was lost in translation, and only added to the day’s uncomfortable events.

Smiling stiffly, she turned and walked back to her flat.

Sitting on the not-so-comfortable couch, she studied the two signatures on the lease. It was her handwriting, but the name was wrong. _Why is my name Beverly Tooth?_ She came to the conclusion, from the still-paintings on the wall, location of their dwelling, and the fact that Ferris Ferret is a very muggle name, that she was dating a muggle.

She was disappointed that she wasn't in a relationship with Ron- She envisioned herself with Ron in every future. Maybe Ferris was a cover, maybe she wasn't _really_ involved with him, maybe she was still seeing Ron behind Ferris' back. She corrected herself quickly, ‘ _I would never use someone like that, muggle or not.’_

Maybe she was running from something?

While thinking over what type of man he would be, she heard a rustle at the door and the lock turn.

Hermione's heart sped up.

Suddenly the way she was sitting felt very uncomfortable. She couldn't make any position she sat in feel casual, so she stood up.

The door opened, and in walked "...Malfoy?"


	2. Actress

 

"...Malfoy?"

He eyes widened slightly for a moment, his hand pausing in the air on its way to grab the folder being held under his arm. Draco shook his head, trying to make sense of why she would call him by his last name.  _Skipping out on work early just to role-play?_ Draco had been worried when Hermione's secretary called him about her frantic departure from work.

Now he was immensely pleased, not only that she wasn't sick, but that she had come home just to surprise him with another one of her escapades.

With his back towards her, Draco tossed the folder onto the table and smirked. Attempting to hide his excitement behind a cool demeanor he turned around.

"What do you want, Granger?"

Granger? Why is Malfoy in my house, and where is Ferris? Hermione realized that he had used the front door instead of apparating directly inside.

_Did Malfoy just break into my house?_

She regretted assuming that it would be her partner that would walk through the door. She should have spent a little less time trying to get comfortable and a little more time preparing for the worst. Her hand pocketed her wand, preparing for a fight.

Malfoy looked in his mid-twenties. Loosening his emerald green tie, his blonde hair fell to the collar of his button down shirt. He stared at her haughtily while folding his right sleeve up his arm. It was the look she had seen a million times during the brief interactions she had with him.

_He still thinks he's superior to me!_  she thought, with a hex ready to pass through her lips _._

After the war most pure-blood supremacist families had renounced their blood-supremacy views... except the Malfoys. They hadn't even hinted remorse when their trials went to the Wizengamot.

Many wizards and witches thought the families that pleaded innocent were just trying to evade Azkaban, and Hermione felt inclined to agree, but the Malfoys could have  _at least_  denounced their ways! Of course Malfoy wouldn't change- He couldn't change- Hermione felt the need to hit something.

"I'll only repeat myself once, Granger. What do you want?" he asked, still staring at her. He was rolling his left sleeve up when something caught Hermione's eye. It felt as if cold water had just been poured over her head.

"You're a bloody Death Eater!?" she screamed.

Not expecting the outburst, his eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly in shock. It was something that hadn't been confirmed yet, and now that she knew, she was seeing red.

She knew his dislike for Muggle-borns, but she didn't think he had had the guts to commit to a group so terrible so young.

She drew her wand out of her pocket and marched across the room pointing it directly at his chest. "Get. Out. Now." She looked at him through squinted eyes, disgusted.

It was at that moment Draco realized that this wasn't going to be an experiment with nice shag at the end. She'd never been that good of an actress, and this was definitely not sexy.

"I wont ask you twice, Malfoy," she warned.

Draco didn't understand what was going on, or why she was behaving like this. His grey eyes were wavering between her brown ones, looking alarmed and concerned.

"Hermione, sit down," he pleaded, raising his pale hands as if surrendering.

She stood her ground and glared at him, waiting for him to draw his wand before actually hexing him.

Draco was not comfortable being at the end her wand when she looked so dangerous. Since asking nicely hadn't worked, he mustered all the confidence he had and ordered, " _Hermione, sit down no_ w _."_

She didn't move, and scoffed at his tone. Draco was running out of options. Trying one last time to calm her down, he started warmly, "Love?"

Hermione looked away for a moment with her eye brows knitted together. There was something she wasn't remembering. Draco took the opportunity to snatch her wand from her hand, and Hermione dropped her arm. Fight or flight kicked in, and she decided to fight. Her fist almost collided with his chin when his arm blocked the attack. Quickly, he grabbed her by her wrists, pulling her body forcibly to his to thwart another attack. Hermione struggled, trying to escape from his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.

"If you want me to let go, you are going to have to calm down," he hissed.

_Like devils snare,_  she thought,  _just play dead, and he will let you live_. Hermione wondered is sunlight affected him in a similar way.  _He's so pale I wouldn't be surprised._

She stopped struggling and his embrace loosened. His gaze lowered to hers, and his hands shifted to her shoulders.

He gave her a light squeeze. "Hermione, please. What has gotten into you?"

Hermione realized her mistake just a few minutes too late. She had forgotten this wasn't her world- and now her next three days would be spent in the loony bin.

_Oh no._

Hermione looked left and right, trying to recall the layout of the room. She needed to assess the situation and come up with a plan, but she needed time for that. Time, she knew, Malfoy wasn't going to let her have. Hermione threw her arms between his and pushed outward, removing his hands from her shoulders. Without waiting another moment she sprinted to the bedroom, locked herself in, and threw herself on the bed.

It wasn't the bravest thing she could have done, but she really did need to think of a plan. It was essential if she wanted to keep her freedom- at least until she could get back to real time. She flipped onto her back, now staring at the ceiling with her arms resting casually by her side. Hermione replayed the conversation in her head countless times without coming up with a solution to make the situation better. After a few minutes it occurred to her,  _"I could just lie_." Sure, it's not something that she would usually do, but desperate times...

Hermione could blame it on post-war stress, but that would surely include one to many trips to doctors. She needed an excuse that was plausible, yet not enough to get her locked away before she could experience her future.

After playing out a few different scenarios in her mind she decided the best way to fix this was to walk right out the room and tell Malfoy it was all a joke. A not very funny joke, but she could just say that she was practicing her acting skills _._ No explanation, rhyme or reason to her acting, she just wanted to see if she had good acting skills. It was a pretty far stretch to be believable, but she had to try something.

Hermione stood, pulled her shirt down to where it would rest naturally, and walked to the door leading to the living room. She stood in front of the mirror hanging on the door. Hermione studied her appearance. She looked slightly older, mid-twenties she guessed, like Draco. Although she didn't think she looked much different, she noticed she looked womanly, more feminine. She had slightly more curves now, her breasts were now at least a b-cup, and she had gained at least a stone over the years. Her hair was still bushy, but not unkempt, now a lighter brown.  _Looks like future-Hermione learned a few beauty spells_ , she thought appreciatively. After a few more seconds of staring at herself in the mirror for assurance, she nodded at the reflection and opened the door.

Hermione stole a peak around the door before tentatively stepping into the room.

Draco was sitting on a chair in the living room with his back hunched over.

His legs were spread wide with his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands were covering his face, as if attempting to shield himself from reality.

He looked distraught.

The floorboards squeaked lightly underneath her feet until she stood in front of him.

"D-Draco?" she stuttered, the words feeling unfamiliar on her lips, but she assured herself it was a good way to gain his trust.

At his name he spread his fingers peering through the space between. His eyes showed no emotion, waiting for her to speak.

Hermione cleared her throat and looked out the window behind him. "I was just kidding. You know that right?" She looked back to him, but his eyes still watching her expressionlessly. She gazed out the window once more. "Before, when I yelled at you, it was just a joke."

After a few moments with no response Hermione looked back at Draco. He had dropped his hands from his face and they were now clasped together in front of him. His elbows were still resting on his knees. His mouth opened as if to yell for a moment, but last minute had decided against it. She started to shift nervously under his scrutiny, and her eyes moved to examine the floor.

"Why are you lying to me?" he inquired. He looked like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult equation rather than trying to understand why Hermione was acting like a nutter.

"I-I'm not, Draco. It was just act-"

"Don't you dare lie to me! Don't you dare say it was a joke! I know you. You can't stand to look at people when you lie to them because it makes you uncomfortable seeing them believe your dishonesty. _And this_  is what you decide your first lie to me should be? And for what?" Taking a deep breath, he made a distressed noise. "You may need help, Hermione. You- you might need help that I can't provide alone. How can you stand in front of me and lie about something so serious?"

He stood up somewhere during his outburst. His tall, slender form was now towering over her.

Hermione refused to be intimidated, with or without her wand.

"Listen here,  _Malfoy_ ," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes while jabbing her finger at Draco's chest. " _I. am. not. lying_."

Ignoring her assault, his thin lips twitched while snorting lightly and rolling his eyes.

It sounded like she was starting to believe her own lies.

_Five years of honesty down the drain_ , he thought, shaking his head a few times while looking at the floor. Lifting his eyes slowly to hers he repeated her words from earlier, "Malfoy, huh?"

Her eyes grew wide, realizing her slip up. He laughed humorlessly at her reaction and ran his hands through his hair.

"Well,  _Granger,_ " he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "We can do this one of two ways. You tell me the truth,  _or_  I will use Veritaserum." He shrugged his shoulders and folded his hands in front of him. "It's your choice."

_This has to be a nightmare_.

_Muggle? Fine._

_Stranger? Sure._

_Malfoy? Never!_

_What kind of sick spell was this? Was she really going to be trapped with Malfoy for three days?_ She wanted to vomit.  _When I get back to reality I am going to hex Ron for this!_  

Hermione sat on the couch across from the chair Draco had been sitting in earlier.

"I can't trust you," she whispered, defeated, with her hands covering her face, similar to Draco's posture when she walked in the room. She felt the cushion next to her dip as he sat down.

Lightly grasping her hands, he removed them from her face. Hermione looked into his eyes. They didn't make her uncomfortable like she had thought they would. If it were even possible, they reassured her.

"I love you, Hermione."

Hermione flinched and looked away. His eyes told her he wasn't lying, but it seemed impossible that she could have fallen in love with Draco in her future.

He waited until she turned back to face him. "You can trust me with anything."

She couldn't believe she was even thinking it, but he seemed like he really cared. Maybe she  _could_  trust him. However, making him listen to her about why she's behaving this way was a completely different story. She absently looked around the room. After a few seconds Hermione decided it would probably make things easier if she told him the truth, on the off-chance he believed her. Maybe telling the truth would help her to better understand this future.

A future that had her in a relationship with Draco soddingMalfoy, Slytherin sex god, tormentor of her childhood, and monster to all that is different from him.

Hermione let out a short, jagged breath. "Well, it all started with a relatively new divination spell."

 


	3. The Idea

They sat in silence, staring at the floor for what seemed like an eternity. His silence telling Hermione that she would be locked up very soon.

"I believe you," he said more to himself than her. "I've never used that spell myself. I prefer to just let things play out naturally. It never made sense to me why anyone would want to take away an option for their future.”

Draco was in deep thought. He stood suddenly and started pacing around the room while Hermione sat on the couch watching him through careful eyes.

Looking directly at her, he addressed her again. "Here's what you're going to do. You are not to speak of this to anyone. That's out of the question. You are not to tell anyone about what you've done." Draco was preparing for a fight, but Hermione was relieved. She didn't want anyone to know that she was from the past, and one too many people already knew.

When enough time passed, and he knew she was not going to start an argument, he spoke once more. "Also, we're supposed to attend dinner at my parents house in an hour," Draco said, looking at her apologetically.

"We're going to skip it," she nodded, watching him.

"No," his said, narrowing his eyes. "Your relationship with them is already strained enough as it is. Attendance is mandatory."

"Well that's all the more reason not to go," she argued.

"Hermione, you can't ruin this for us."

"I can't be around them. They-" Hermione paused. It would be rude to talk poorly of someones family in front of them, but then she thought about who they were and all the people they harmed during the war.

Attempting to sound authoritative, she spoke once more. "I refuse to be around those terrible people. Their goal is to rid the world people like me. Do you not remember the war?"

"They're not 'those' terrible people!" Draco yelled. "They're my parents.

“You grew up differently than us! You weren't taught to think like us. You haven't walked a minute in our shoes," he seethed. "You guys won the war, you-"

" _We_ won the war? Tell me Malfoy, do  _you_  still believe in bad blood? Am I  _still_ not worthy of magic?"

Hermione sat on the edge of her seat. Her nails were digging into the couch. "I hate to break it to you, but the wizarding world is better off without your prejudices. Wizards and Witches are no longer worried about their loved ones going 'missing'. People aren't being  _murdered._  Your intolerant ways have no place in this world anymore."

Draco stood motionless, letting her words sink in.

"I have spent every day making amends to you for what I did in the war! Why would I propose to you if I still believed in all the things I did before the war? I moved here for you to be happy... So we could start our lives together away from the mess in the wizarding world! I use the blasted front door because you wanted to submerge yourself in Muggle life! How can you question my support for you after all this time?"

Hermione realized she probably shouldn't have been so temperamental towards the first questionable thing Draco said.

This was Malfoy though, and she wasn't used to a decent Draco. In fact, if anyone had asked her a few minutes ago if it were possible for Draco to be decent, she'd laugh until the owls came home.

The conversation replayed in her head. A pleasant Malfoy was improbable, yes, but not impossible. Her face grew pale when she thought about the significance of what he said.

"We're engaged?" Hermione asked quietly. If this were true, things were much more serious than she had originally thought.

Draco sobered, suddenly remembering their predicament. "I'm sorry, I just," he said, one hand waving between them, "forgot about this."

Draco took a deep breath and answered her previous question. "Yes, we're engaged."

"I don't have a wedding ring," she replied factually. It was possible that they were strapped for money. For all she knew they could have meager wages and live on donations for food.

Draco rolled his eyes. "For some silly reason, you didn't want a ring. You said it was ' _an impractical way to spend money_ '. Although, I did buy you a house."

"You bought a house instead of a ring? Honestly, if I didn't want you to spend money on a ring, why would I want you to buy me a house?"

"Well, you did say 'impractical', and buying a house isn't impractical. Also, you don't know that I have bought it yet," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "We're going need somewhere to stay once we're married, magically bound, and live in the wizarding world once more.”

Why wouldn't he just choose a house with her? Isn't that something that couples did together? And what on earth was this rubbish about being magically bond? She assumed he was speaking of a wizarding marriage bond. Hermione had read about these types of bonds in passing and knew two things: they are rare, and they are extreme. These bonds were created for witches and wizards in arranged marriages, usually to ensure fidelity by force, but as times changed the traditions were seen as oppressive and outdated. Why on earth would Malfoy want to do a bond?

"I've accepted a wizarding bond? Why on earth would I do that?" Hermione couldn't imagine having that strong of a commitment with anyone, let alone Malfoy.

Draco laughed, showing his perfect white teeth and shook his head. "I know I seem like the kind of person to propose something so... radical, but that was actually your idea."

Hermione's eyes widened. There are some things that are better left in the past, and marriage bonds were one of them.

"I know you don't believe me, but after I proposed, you were interested in reading about Malfoy history. I gave you a book on our customs and traditions, and you came to me once you had finished, telling me that you were interested. Of course, I had never really given much thought about a marriage bond, but when you asked me if I ever thought about it, I couldn't imagine not having one with you. You told me the Malfoy bonds were beautiful."

Draco was reminiscing, and Hermione saw his first genuine smile. A smirk from Draco was one thing, but a  _smile_? She was sure no one had seen one until this day.

"It is the happiest memory I have of you. I've never felt so loved in my entire life. Needless to say, I enthusiastically agreed."

Hermione was shocked. She could never imagine loving someone so much to want to preform a ceremony so extreme. That sort of commitment only meant one thing.

"I love you." It sounded like a statement but was meant like a question. Hermione blushed, hoping it didn't sound like she was saying she loved him.

He looked unperturbed by her statement. "Yes, you do, at least in this life. If you love me even a third as much as I do you, we have something that most people couldn't even dream about."

Talking about how much he loves her made Hermione feel uncomfortable, so she decided to change the subject. "So we plan on moving back to the wizarding world?"

"Yes. We're moving back after the honeymoon in Morocco," he answered, noticing, but not commenting on the change of subject.

"Why did we move here to begin with? And why would we move back to the wizarding world?"

"Well, you had been talking about creating maps of magical communities and corresponding them with Muggle ones. You wanted to work in the wizarding world, but the wizarding papers were starting to take a toll on you. After three years of constantly battling with the media harassing you, you asked if we could move to the Muggle world. Only for a while. Of course, I agreed.

"Many people still don't trust Malfoys, and when it comes to our relationship, people are still very judgmental. Even some of your friends still don't accept us."

"Why don't they accept us? If we're 'in love' than what is there to not to accept?"

"It's because my family and I refuse to talk about the war. People don't like that, but we don't owe the Daily Prophet anything." He sat down in the chair, rubbing his temples. "You defended me more times than I can count, writing letters to the editor and everything, but they never stopped attacking. I guess it's hard to stop accusing someone of being a bad person when they protected and provided headquarters to the darkest wizard who ever lived. Eventually, they turned to attacking you."

He looked angry for a moment, at himself or the wizarding world she couldn't tell. "I never wanted you to lose your friends over me. I may dislike them, but I know they meant something to you. For a while I thought you would leave me because it wasn't worth the trouble, but over time you stopped talking about them, and eventually, I think you stopped missing them."

Hermione wondered which friends didn't support her, but that was a question for another time. She wanted to know the answer to a question she'd been wondering in her time as well. "Why wouldn't you save yourself the trouble like everyone else and just tell everyone that your views changed?"

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head, frowning. "It's just words. Would you honestly believe someone who spent the entire war funding Voldemort suddenly renouncing their ways after they had lost? I know what people say about the Death Eaters and sympathizers that claimed they changed. People don't believe them- they say that they are empty, cowardly, apologies to save their own skin. No one believes them- Hell, I don't believe them. So, we decided to speak through our actions."

Hermione wasn't convinced. "You had something none of the others had. You had Harry's word that you contributed to the demise of Voldemort!"

"We decided the route we were going to take before Potter decided he was going to give his testament. We wanted to prove that we were going to change, that we have changed. Potter's testimony for what we did at the end of the war only made it easier to not repeat the empty apologies that everyone else had. And we have spoken through our actions. We've donated countless times to restore the damage we have done.

"We even donated some of our lands to build homes for orphaned children from the war. My mother founded ICHO, Independent Charity Homes for Orphans, it raises funds for the orphaned effected by the war to ensure they receive a proper education. We've proven ourselves, and we didn't need to grovel or apologize to do it."

Hermione was surprised by their charitable actions. She hadn't heard of any donations from Malfoys during her time, so she asked when they had started.

Malfoy looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "We started the moment the war ended. We gave the lands away before our trials began, and we used to give money yearly to various organizations, until my mother founded ICHO about four years after the war."

He looked back to Hermione and asked, "What year are you from?"

"Right now it's the fifth month after the war."

"We're completing our last year at Hogwarts then, yes?"

Hermione nodded. "We don't even acknowledge each other in the halls."

"Well, that didn't happen until two years after graduation. I guess it will never happen now..." he said, letting the sentence speak for itself on what she had done.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she remained silent. She wondered if he was mad at her. Of course if she was in his shoes, in a seemingly 'perfect' life, and someone took it away, she would be upset too.

Truthfully, Hermione thought that this spell raised more questions than it was worth. Would he still exist after these three days? Or would he continue on with his life in this dimension? Would he remember these three days if his life continued?

Draco seemed to recover from his statement faster than Hermione.

"Anyways, we're due at my parents house in ten minutes. Just act normal, and you'll be fine. There's usually not much conversation directed towards you. Usually they ignore you, and you ignore them. Just, please, go change into one of your nicer dresses so we can get this over with."

"I really don't want to go," she complained, but stood up anyways. Draco seemed trustworthy enough not to let anything get out of hand, and her attendance meant something to him.

He smirked, knowing that she had already resolved herself to going. "Don't worry, we won't stay long."

Hermione and Draco stood in front of Malfoy Manor. The front of the house was almost completely covered in ivy, making the house look neglected and unwelcoming. Standing under the covering of the portico, Hermione blocked out her nervousness by analyzing Draco.

She noticed he really didn't look all that different than he did during his last year of Hogwarts. He had a stronger jaw line and stubble that graced the lower half of his face, making him look slightly older. He wore the same outfit as earlier with the addition of a waist coat and jacket. And now that Hermione had seen Draco's sweet side, he looked much more appealing than he had at Hogwarts. He looked truly beautiful in the twilight.

Hermione knew the weather in October could get quite chilly, so she decided to wear a deep purple vintage dress that reached just below her knees, with a turned down collar, and mid-length sleeves. It was classy, yet not overdone for a dinner with family. She wondered if Draco liked the dress.

Before she could think too much into that thought, the front door opened and a vaguely familiar cold voice broke the silence. "Draco, how wonderful it is to see you," drawled the clear voice. She gave a light hug and a peck on the cheek. "You look more like your father every time I see you."

She looked older than she had during the war but beautiful nonetheless. Her long hair was now short, reaching just below her ears in an asymmetrical style, with beauty spells keeping her natural grey hairs from shining through.

"Please come in," she said, without sparing Hermione a glance.  _Draco wasn't exaggerating when he said we ignored each other,_  Hermione thought, walking through the door that led to the one place she never wanted to step foot in again.

The walls of Malfoy Manor were lined with portraits that remained silent, with all eyes glued to Hermione disapprovingly, making her hyper-aware of each step she took. Trying to distract herself from the attention, she began counting steps to help stop her from tripping.

Hermione felt someone grab her hand and immediately jerked away from the unfamiliar touch. Her head snapped towards the perpetrator, only to meet Draco's cool-grey eyes trying to calm her. He gave her a small smile before turning his attention back to walking.

Hermione felt strangely sorry for him _. He's lost his best friend. And replacing her is me, a former version of the woman he loves who wouldn't spend a minute in his company willingly_.

He hadn't asked for this. He hadn't asked to come home to a stranger. She felt a little ashamed she disturbed Malfoy's life. He seemed to truly love the life he built for himself. Hermione reached out and held his hand, interlocking their fingers. Hermione hoped the gesture was seen as a peace offering, after all, he may have been cruel to her in the past, but he loved her now. Draco looked pleased, but didn't look at her again.

Narcissa sat in the seat to the left of the head of the table. Draco released Hermione's hand and pulled out her seat, then took his own place at the seat directly to the right of the head of the table. Hermione knew her seat was purposefully placed to make her feel uncomfortable. She was intentionally the table's outcast.

She didn't know if this was a good thing, because she wouldn't have to answer questions, or a bad thing, because they obviously disliked her.

As Hermione took her seat, Lucius walked in and sat down at the head of the table between to the two other Malfoys.

"Draco," Lucius acknowledged, while shifting his eyes to Hermione. "Miss Granger."

Narcissa crinkled her nose at the greeting, seemingly displeased with her husband for speaking to the unwanted guest. Hermione was pleasantly surprised she wasn't getting the silent treatment from both of the older Malfoys.

They were served by two house elves that seemed to like Hermione. She greeted them politely, earning a smile from them before they went about their business. The room was large, with tall ceilings, and had large french windows covering the wall behind Narcissa. Although the room should have felt spectacular, the combination of more than half the table remaining empty, and the silence of the people present, made the room felt dull.

They were reaching the end of their meal when Hermione decided to break the silence. "Mrs. Malfoy, how is your charity doing so far this year?"

Narcissa turned her attention to Draco, as if he had asked the question. "It's been wonderful. This year we've raised tuition for eight different children to attend Hogwarts until they graduate. Isn't that wonderful, Draco?"

"That is wonderful mother, but Hermione asked the question," he replied, as if she were a child.

"Yes,  _her,"_ she seethed.

"Careful," Draco said through his teeth. "She's my fiance, and if you continue to act like this, these dinners are going to disappear." The threat was enough to make Hermione flinch.

Draco knew it was harsh. He also knew Hermione would refuse to be the reason they wouldn't visit. However, he was a Slytherin, and sometimes threats are necessary.

Losing her once-cool demeanor, Narcissa practically yelled, "She doesn't like me either. At least I'm honest about how I feel. Why do you always-"

Lucius slammed his fists on the table, effectively cutting her off. " _We will not fight against each other."_ Lucius straightened his back and looked between the young couple, regaining his normal, cool voice. "I refuse to let this... change of lineage to corrupt our family."

Draco ignored his father. "She does dislike you, probably just as much as you her, but  _she_  does so behind closed doors. It's not acceptable to do it openly."

Draco stood and faced his father. "I'd like to use the library."

Lucius nodded solemnly. With his approval, Draco grabbed Hermione's arm, pulled her from her chair, and left.

They walked fast, nearly jogging in silence. Hermione couldn't believe that Draco stood up for her. She would have never thought Draco would defend anyone but himself.

Draco was livid. He hated when his mother treated Hermione like she was just a phase in his life that he would suddenly get over after enough insults.

Draco realized he was holding Hermione's arm too tightly, more than likely scaring her. He loosened his grip and slowed his pace. "Sorry about that. I'm not used to you two talking. That was... not normal. As I said, you guys usually ignore each other."

Draco knew she probably wanted to ask him why he wanted to go to the library, so he offered the information before she asked. "There's something that I'd like to show you if you're willing." Hermione agreed, silently hoping it wouldn't be a book to read. Any other day would be fine, but she only had a little over two days to explore this future, and she wanted to make the most of it.

They reached the library after what seemed like an eternity. It was grand, like the rest of the manor. There was a sturdy wooden desk in the back of the room with its front facing the door. The library had two stories worth of shelves bordering the room packed with books with a balcony to walk on around the top half of the room. Closer to the door, there was a small sitting area with leather furniture.

It was beautiful, but not as nearly as extensive as the Hogwarts library. That was, until she saw Draco mumble an incantation and parts of the floorboard under the desk folded under, leaving a large hole in the floor under the now-floating desk.

Draco walked to the back of the room and sat on the desk. Hermione hesitated, unsure if he wanted her to sit with him. He smirked at her hesitation. Narrowing her eyes, she smiled back playfully before jumping on the desk, and with a nonverbal incantation, they descended into the underground.

The space was dark. Even with torches illuminating shelves every few feet, the room was one large shadow. Hermione saw no windows, and the the entire room was made of stone. After a few minutes her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw the room clearly.

It was a hidden library. Hermione didn't have to look at the books to know what they were. She could  _feel_  the dark magic radiating from the books.

Hermione was both disturbed and fascinated by the underground library. If she included both the upstairs and underground library, it nearly rivaled Hogwart's library. And if she was comparing banned books and dark magic collections, Hermione guessed the Malfoys had the largest collection in England, maybe even all of Europe.

She heard Malfoy's footsteps leading her further into the room. He didn't stop to see if she was following. She assumed he either knew that she would follow, or he could hear her footsteps behind him. Once they reached the back of the room, Draco stopped walking and opened another door. This room was circular, with ancient ruins carved into the stone walls, and three rings surrounding the center of the room. Within the smallest circle stood a large stone basin with a silver fog hovering at the top, threatening to spill its contents.

Hermione knew exactly what it was. Harry had spoken of them after the war. They were rare indeed, and often times hidden for protection, making them even more precious.

After all, you wouldn't want just anyone looking at your memories.

"A Pensive?" Hermione barely whispered, uncertain of what he was about to show her.


	4. Pensive

"A Pensieve?" Hermione repeated.

Hermione had never used one before, and was slightly apprehensive of entering one with memories from only the Malfoy family. Hermione looked to Draco for an explanation and saw his wand dragging a silver string from his temple. He did this several times, each time placing the strings into the basin.

"You know what I'm doing right?"

"You want me to watch your memories," Hermione answered, feeling as if she were stating the obvious.

"Yes. I want you to watch a few specific memories." Draco cautioned, "Memories about us."

Hermione was pleased he had cared enough to do this. Naturally, she wanted to know what had led them to falling in love. Falling in love with Draco was definitely something she needed to see to believe. And she had to admit, it was clever of him to think of this.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, the more I know about this future, the better right? I have very little time here, and this is the fastest way," she said, staring at the silver strands swimming in the basin.

"My thoughts exactly. Whenever you're ready Hermione, " he said, while taking his shoe off, transfiguring it into a large leather chair, and sitting down.

She took a few steps forward, grabbed the side of the basin, and without glancing back, dived into the first memory he prepared for her.

Hermione landed in a ballroom with sun coloured walls, and candles hovering over the finely dressed people. Then she heard a voice- her voice- asking for everyone's attention. Hermione looked up to herself on stage announcing the events itinerary. She looked professional, but not much different than she does now. She saw a flash of blond hair out the corner of her eye fighting his way through the crowd towards the exit. She wanted to stay and watch her speech, but this was Draco's memory, so, weaving through the crowd, she followed him out the door.

The night was warm, with various creatures making light noises in the background. They were on a small patio surrounded by large, neatly trimmed bushes. There was no one around, save for Draco. He reached in his pocket, opened his pack, and lit a cigarette with the tip of his wand. He took a long drag and walked over to one of three benches in the sitting area of the patio. He sat back with one arm on the back of the bench and the hand with the cigarette on the arm rest. He didn't look as if he was thinking anything of importance, if anything he looked bored.

His cigarette was half gone before the inside noise broke the silence and a door closed. Future-Hermione sat down on the bench across from him. The silence dragged on, and she wondered why her future-self came out here in the first place.

Hermione decided to break the silence.

"Of all the Muggle inventions to use, and you choose cigarettes?"

Putting the cigarette out on the ground, he rolled his eyes.

"I'm self medicating, Granger."

"How so?" Hermione inquired, looking genuinely interested.

Draco seemed skeptical. Of the conversation, or who the conversation was with, Hermione couldn't tell.

"They calm me. I haven't spent much time in large groups of people of late, and not many people have wanted to associate with me since Hogwarts. These types of events make me... upset." He tilted his head from side to side, uncomfortable with the confession. "These events are fun for the people on your side of the war, but for people like me, we're not here for fun. We're here to 'give' money and for the ministry to keep an eye on us."

"That's not true," Hermione said simply.

"Exactly what isn't true?" Draco said through his teeth.

"You're not here because of your money, and the Ministry isn't watching you."

"You don't know anything," he said, calmly pulling out another cigarette. He put it between his teeth, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes as he reached in his pocket for his wand. There was a pregnant pause before she spoke again.

"You're here because I invited you, Draco."

He paused his movements, looking up at Hermione. He grabbed the unlit cigarette from his mouth, and narrowed his eyes at her.

The vision faded before the scene truly finished, and the room spun beneath her feet. The room Hermione fell in this time was dark with stone walls, and floor-to-ceiling windows covered by thick burgundy curtains. Draco was relaxing on the couch, half a bottle into his Firewiskey, with only the crackle of the fireplace to keep him company. He was lazily swirling his liquid in the glass when Hermione burst through the door.

"Why are you avoiding me?!"

The outburst startled Draco, causing him to spill his drink on his lap and jump from his seat.

"How did you get in my house?!"

"That's not important!" she yelled back. "It's been two months and not a word from you. What happened to our meetings? I invited you to the fundraiser as my guest, not a date. You shouldn't treat your friends like this."

"Your right, because dates are something two people agree upon,  _Granger,"_ he snapped. "Why  _did_  you invite me? Everything was fine how it was. We would meet, have a few drinks, talk a little, and leave. We never talked outside of the pub. So what made you think you can invite me to events with you? You think that because we talk that we're suddenly friends? News flash, I don't have friends!" he yelled, then huffed, knowing that she wouldn't understand what not having friends was like.

"Why can't we be friends,  _Draco_?" she said, taking a step towards him. "You trust me. I trust you. We enjoy each others company. We talk weekly. You've become one of the only people that I can have an honest conversation with, but for some reason you can't even tell me that you don't want to see me anymore? I'm not worth an owl?"

Setting his glass down he stepped around the table. Towering over Hermione, he asked, "Why did you invite me?"

Future-Hermione waited a few moments, and she suspected she was thinking over what to say. "You're always talking about not having anyone to talk to besides me, so I figured you needed to get out of your comfort zone. I didn't want to tell you, because I didn't want you to say no," she sighed, playing with the ring on her finger. "I shouldn't have done it behind your back, but I like you. You're a good person, and I want you to be happy."

The fire died down to embers and Draco smirked, knowing that she would notice he dimmed the fire on purpose.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"Do what?" he replied, innocently.

"You're drunk," she said, motioning to the bottle.

"You're not sober either. I know for a fact that you were sitting at the bar, drinking, just waiting for me to show up." He put his finger on his cheek in mock thought and asked, "Now, why would you wait for someone at a pub that hasn't been there in over two months?"

"Because you're my friend-"

"I don't think that's it," he interrupted, smirking once more. "Wouldn't a friend just ask the other person to meet them there? A friend wouldn't spend two months hoping that their 'friend' would show up. No, that's not it... I think you've fallen for me."

Hermione scoffed. "Not likely, you know the kind of people I've dated. They are kind, and thoughtful, and they certainly wouldn't avoid me."

"Sure, those are people that you have dated in the past. But guess what? You're not with them anymore."

Hermione could tell she liked him. After all, this was just her in the future. Draco seemed to know too. "Just admit that you like me," he finished, looking far too proud.

Hermione's eyes looked around the room and settled on Draco. "Fine, I like you. But as it stands, you are avoiding me, and I want it to stop. We've been friends for a while now, and I'd like it to go back to how it was."

Draco leaned forward, whispering something into Hermione's ear that made her back straighten and her body gravitate towards him.

Hermione didn't catch what was said between the couple, and although curious, she didn't want to move any closer to find out.

Draco kissed a spot below her ear. Tilting her neck to give him better access, his tongue darted out tracing a circle where his lips had been. His mouth returned, sucking on the skin, making Hermione's eyes close and a moan of pleasure escape her lips. He withdrew, smiling, and with his hands on her hips, he pressed their bodies together.

Moving slowly, he moved along her jaw until he made contact with her lips. Her hands moved gently along his arms, resting one on his shoulder, the other pulling his hair lightly. Responding to the pull, his fingers grabbed the bottom of her shirt and quickly began to remove it.

Even though she knew she should feel uncomfortable, she wasn't. Instead, she found that she couldn't look away.

Hermione thought it was interesting, their first kiss was similar to their relationship: Slow, meaningful, and steadily built over time.

The memory began to blur, and Hermione remembered that she wasn't here to watch the details. She was here to see how the relationship grew.

From an outsiders perspective, their relationship seemed inevitable. They had formed a relationship on trust and friendship, and then wanted more from each other. It seemed simple, but knowing their past, she wondered what had happened during their meetings to change each others minds.

She landed in familiar territory this time. It was cluttered, clean, and felt like home. Although, the yelling didn't fit with the wonderful memories from the home.

She ran to the other room to see what could possibly create this kind of commotion at the Burrow. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Draco were standing on one side of the room and the remaining Weasleys on the other.

Ginny was yelling a string of profanities at Hermione, in between insulting Draco. His past, his attitude, his Death Eater status, she wasn't backing down. All the while, Hermione was waving her arms actively trying to defend Draco. She knew she didn't get angry this often, but it seemed to be a fight to the death over Draco's character. Harry and Ron didn't take part in the defense, but were standing with their friend for support. It made Hermione proud to call them her best friends.

They hated him, but they loved her more.

Draco was staring daggers at the young woman that was yelling at Hermione, but remained silent.

Hermione knew now he didn't say anything because he had already resolved to being unwelcome. She felt pity for Draco. He knew people wouldn't accept them as a couple, but he still let her try to convince the world around them. She knew that her future-self didn't realize it yet, but this is one of the many situations that would eventually make them leave the wizarding world.

"Maybe it would be best if you took your leave," Molly suggested, seeming to agree with the younger red-head.

Hermione looked at Molly, her jaw clenched with her hands balled in fists by her sides. Before anyone could act, she swiftly removed her wand from her pocket, straightened her back, and pointed it behind the offending group.

"Incendio!"

Along with the spell, the attention shifted to the corner of the room where Hermione had, effectively, lit the Christmas tree on fire.

Watching her work for only a moment, Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and dissaparated.

The memory shifted, and she landed in the snow covered streets of Hogsmeade. It was daylight, with plenty of people walking along the various shops. The couple walked slowly, hand-in-hand, caught in their own world.

"I'd like to take a longer walk today, if that's alright?" He was nervous. Hermione knew what was about to happen. She wondered if her future-self knew too.

"If that's what you want, but remember we need time to get ready for your parent's dinner tonight," she replied, giving him a meaningful look.

Draco shook his head and laughed. "Don't worry, we'll still have plenty of time for that."

They walked a short while, leaving the city center of Hogsmead, and entering the residential part for privacy. They stopped in front of the largest home on the street. Although it was grand in size, it looked comfortable and inviting.

Draco got on one knee, and before he had time to ask the question, Hermione had already answered. "Yes!"

Without a moments hesitation he stood, picked her up, and kissed her passionately. He set her down, their noses now touching. "Only you would answer a question as important as that before I had time to properly ask."

"Why wait to answer a question you already know the answer to?" She could hear the smile in her voice from only a few paces away.

The vision blurred, but this time Hermione landed back in the room covered in ruins.

Draco looked at Hermione passively and asked how it went.

"I think I understand things a lot better now." She paused. "Thank you, for thinking of that. That was brilliant."

Hermione understood why she would fall for him. He is handsome, caring, romantic, loyal, and overall trustworthy. She never thought she would see the day that she would think 'Draco' and 'trustworthy' in the same sentence. It was a pleasant thought, that prejudices could be overcome, enemies could become friends, lovers even.

She found herself wanting to know more about Draco. What made him change his mind about Mudbloods? What influenced his decision to talk to her at the Leaky Cauldron? And why would he go through the trouble of being a couple when the world would never accept them?

"I know you have questions, but it's getting late. We should be getting back home."

She noticed he was asking for permission, so she nodded and held out her hand.

He shook his head. "We have to go to the main floor to apparate."

Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she kept her hand in place.

After a moment, he gave a broad smile, accepted her hand, and led them back the way they came.

 


	5. Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a special thank you to anyone who read, reviewed, and liked the story thus far. Thanks for your support! -LightsWrites

Hermione changed into pajamas and was laying on the couch in their living room when Draco walked out from their bedroom in a loose-fitting shirt and boxers.

"Hermione, you're not sleeping out here," Draco said, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Yes, I am. I'm a guest in your home. I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."

Draco chuckled. "I wasn't offering to sleep out here, and it's  _our_ bed."

"I'm not sleeping with you," she stated, shaking her head.

"There's room for two," he smirked.

He was pushing it, but she wasn't going to give in. Hermione sat up, tucking the blanket under her arms to keep her warm. "I've seen the room. I know the bed is large enough. That's not the point."

Draco rolled his eyes, undisturbed. "And that is?"

"We're not  _really_  together, and quite honestly, we haven't had a decent conversation," Draco's eyes narrowed before she continued, "before today."

He looked peeved. "Where did you think you were going to sleep if not with me?"

Hermione's cheeks reddened and looked around uncomfortably.

"Well?"

"I didn't know it would be you."

"Your point?" he said, practically through his teeth.

Well, that wasn't the right answer, and this conversation was not going well.

"I wasn't expecting you to be in my future," she sighed. "I thought it was going to be Ron, or someone else, but you hadn't even crossed my mind as a possibility. And to be fair, we were never friends, and although the memories were helpful, I still really don't know you."

Draco's cool eyes were fixed on hers, abruptly he turned, left the door frame, and receded into the room. Hermione threw herself back on the couch. It seemed Malfoy didn't deal well with losing arguments.  _No surprise there,_ she thought,  _he was always a spoiled prat._

A few moments later, Draco came out with two blankets and a pillow. The first blanket was placed on the floor, and folded in half. He placed the pillow on the floor and wrapped the second blanket around himself like a cape. He then laid on the floor facing away from her.

Hermione looked over the edge of the couch, her brows furrowed and her mouth agape. He knew she was staring at him, but he was going to ignore her unless she said something.

Hermione couldn't form words.  _Draco Malfoy_  was about to  _sleep_  on the  _floor_. And why? Because she didn't want to share a bed with him?  _This could be the strangest thing I've ever seen._ She turned around, facing the back of the couch, keeping her thoughts to herself.

She waited until she heard his steady breathing before conjuring a mattress, and laying him on top. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that he really did not take losing arguments well.

Hermione woke up to the smell of coffee and breakfast. She went to the bathroom to freshen up, and when she came out breakfast was already set on the table. Draco was sipping his drink, ignoring her presence.

Tentatively, Hermione sat down. "Morning," she said, breaking the silence.

Hermione waited for a response, but didn't receive one. They ate most of their meal in silence before he asked her if she wanted any coffee. He came back with coffee and sat down once more.

"Are we not going to talk about last night?"

"Unless something happened that I don't know about, there's nothing to talk about," he replied cheekily.

She looked down, twisting the cup by its rim, annoyed. "Obviously, I'm referring to why you were so adamant about sleeping in the same room as me."

Draco looked around the room for a moment.

Displeased, he took out his wand and transported the bed back to it's place in the room. He then flicked his wand once more, and the entire room looked like it had before she arrived.

"I don't like sleeping alone," he said simply.

Hermione was pretty sure he wasn't being completely honest, but she let it go.

"Fine, well, I'd like to visit my friends today. At least, the friends I have left."

"I'd rather we not," Draco cut in, barely allowing her to finish her sentence.

"You don't have to go. I'm sure they don't want to see you either." She was going to see her friends, so that much was certain.

"They may not want to see me, but you're definitely not going there alone."

"Do you always treat me like a caged bird?" she asked, getting just as annoyed as Draco.

He leaned forward, as if telling her a secret. "When it's the real you, and you know the dynamics of your life, you can come and go as you please. Right now though? I don't trust you to not tell them about who you really are." He pretended to think for a moment before adding, "Oh, and I don't trust you around Weasley."

Hermione hated that he didn't trust her around her best friend. And she sure as hell didn't like the look he was giving her, as if he had won the argument. "I know me and Ron are still friends. I saw it in the memory you gave me."

Draco smirked. "When did you say you were from again?"

Hermione didn't see the harm in answering, but she knew he didn't need her to remind him. She kept silent, knowing he would tell her whatever it was.

"You don't have to answer me." Smirking, he said, "but I know for a fact that right now, in your time, you're dating him."

His back straightened and he continued, his face now stern, "I'm not going to have you make my fiance look like she's interested in anyone but me."

There was no use arguing with him. He was the one who knew where her friends would be. "Fine," she snapped.

Folding his hands, pleased that he had won the argument, he asked, "Who would you like to see?"

Hermione thought about it, and there were only a few important people that she would like to see. "Ron, Harry, and-" Hermione bit her lip. "can we see my parents?"

"That's fine. Ron and Harry's place first then?" He said, looking down at his phone. He typed a small text then looked back up. It was strange seeing pure-blooded Draco Malfoy using a Muggle device with such ease.

"Ron and Harry live together?" she asked."And who did you text?"

"Your parents should have some warning we're stopping by, yes? And Ron moved in a few weeks ago after his tragic break up with Hannah Abbot." He didn't sound as if it were tragic at all. He gave her a small smile realizing that she wouldn't understand the meaning of the joke and explained, "You liked her well enough, but they fought all the time. It's better now that they are apart. So, now, it's Ron, Harry, and Harry's girlfriend."

“Who's Harry's girlfriend?”

“I'll just let you find out on your own.”

“Fine.” Hermione stood to get dressed. "Will you be ready to leave in a half hour?" He nodded, and she left for the bedroom.

After she was dressed in regular Muggle clothes, she watched Draco set his cup into the sink and go to the bedroom to change. When he came out, he was dressed in a black knit sweater and grey corduroy pants. His hair was brushed out of his face with one side tucked behind his ear.

While they were leaving the complex Hermione saw Grant open his door and peak his head out. He looked as if he were waiting for her. She greeted him, but once Draco rounded the steps behind her Grant loudly shut his door.

Hermione waited until they were outside to ask Draco the question that had been in the back of her mind for a while now.

"So why are we using fake names?"

"Well, I don't like the landlord. Which is probably why he practically slammed the door when he saw you weren't alone. He's never really respected that you're a taken women. The first time he met us he asked you on a date, completely ignoring the fact that I was standing next to you. I became just a little angry and, well..." Draco slipped his hand into hers, giving her a sly smile. "You rectified the situation of course, via memory charm. This was one of the most affordable places for us. So we didn't want that to stop us from living here, but you didn't want him to know your real name, in case he was a true creep. Which he is, so we picked new names for each other. And that's how we became Beverly Tooth, and Ferris Ferret."

"I understand Ferret, but Beverly Tooth?"

"Beaver tooth," he said, smiling. "You picked a memory that hurt my pride, so I only thought it was fair to do the same," he finished, his unoccupied hand held over his heart.

Hermione smiled as well. It wasn't a good memory for her, but the fact that they could look back and laugh about the spell he cursed her with all those years ago was comforting.

They apparated to Grimmauld place, and the door opened immediately.

"Mister Malfoy," Kreacher greeted, his head bowing. "Sir is always welcome in the Noble House of Black." He glanced at Hermione before turning and limping back to the kitchen.

Harry and Ron were descending the stairs when Hermione voiced her thoughts. "Why is it that every time we're greeted by someone, they only ever seem to want to great you?" She was only being half serious, but Draco seemed upset by the statement.

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Harry.

"Don't listen to Kreacher, Malfoy. You're not  _always_ welcome here," he joked, while giving Hermione a hug. When he let go, she gave him a light push on his shoulder, disproving the joke.

Ron gave an awkward greeting from behind Harry and led them to the drawing room. Hermione sat on the couch facing the window and Draco followed suit. He put his arm behind her and crossed his legs. He seemed relaxed, but she could sense the meaning behind his closeness.

"How's the Muggle world?" Harry asked.

"Uneventful-" Malfoy replied.

"It's great-" Hermione answered at the same time. Afraid of being out of character, she looked around nervously. Ron rolled his eyes. It seemed like a normal occurrence for them to have completely different answers, so she relaxed.

"Have you picked a wedding date yet?" Harry asked, trying to get a conversation started.

"Nope," Malfoy answered, popping the end of the word.

Hermione looked at him angrily. Sure, he had never been friendly with the boys, but he was actively trying to kill the conversation. Harry and Ron both looked at Hermione for a better answer. Draco leaned his face towards her uninterestedly, waiting for her to answer.

"We haven't chosen yet. We're still trying to figure out the best day for us. We need a date that will fit in with our work schedule, and one where everyone can show up." She may not be a good liar, but no one, excluding Draco, could tell she was improvising.

A few hours of talking she found out that Malfoy and her friends actually got along fairly well. Every once and a while someone would make a jab, but nothing serious. They had talked about everything from the war, to their various jobs after Hogwarts. A few times they referenced an inside joke, and Hermione would try to fake a laugh, but sometimes she just smiled and nodded. It wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as it could have been.

The conversation had stopped. Harry and Draco were playing a game of wizarding chess, and Ron was attempting to play a song on the piano. Every now and then Ron would botch an important part of the song, which would earn him a glare from Draco.

Hermione stood up and walked over to the piano bench to help Ron with the song. Starting a new song, Hermione asked how he was doing.

"I'm fine." They played a few more notes before he continued. "I miss her, you know? It's hard being with someone for a long time and then suddenly not having them. The hardest part is when she's not there when I wake up." After messing up on another note, he paused.

Getting back to the right rhythm, he continued, "It's better this way, but it's still hard to adjust."

She thought of her conversation with Malfoy, how he had said he didn't like sleeping alone. Maybe it was a similar idea: not having someone's presence after years of having it.

Ron changed the subject, "I guess you're excited to be Mrs. Malfoy soon."

"The title doesn't matter, but yes, it'll be nice to be married." She shivered at the thought of being married and bound to Draco. She didn't want to think about  _why_  she shivered. All she knew was it wasn't as terrible of a thought that it once would have been.

She looked back at Draco, who was eyeing her suspiciously. Hermione gave a small smile, cast a nonverbal spell that made their voices practically undetectable. "So what do you think of us getting married?"

Ron stopped playing the piano for a moment and looked at Draco. "He can't hear us," she reassured.

He nodded in response, but didn't continue the song. "I've come to terms with it. He treats you like you should be treated, but I'm not like you." She looked at him, waiting for him to finish his thought. "I wish I could be as understanding and forgiving as you, but I'm not in love with the git," Ron laughed. "He's decent now, but you know..." He shrugged. "The past."

"I understand. Actually, I wanted to ask you about a spell I read about recently. As you know, I'm no good at Divination. I was wondering what you know about the Procul Futurae Spell."

He looked at her oddly. "Surely you've read all there is to know, what could I possibly tell you?"

"I don't know everything," she snapped. It was annoying that she couldn't ask a question without people assuming she knew everything.

His eyes widened. After clearing his throat, he started listing things he knew. "Well, it's outlawed in most countries. The spell caster drinks a potion in combination with a spell to see just one variation of many possible futures." He wasn't telling her anything she didn't know. "Some people had gone back to their reality and weren't able to adapt properly. Some turned to drinking, a few people were caught stalking the people they had met in the future. Some tried, without success, to imitate the future they'd seen."

Lazily, he began pressing various keys in front of him. "After the founding of the potion to sustain the spell, things grew much more complicated, because people weren't coming back."

_Bingo,_ Hermione thought. She knew there would have to be a good reason to outlaw the spell. A few people having a rough time adjusting wouldn't do it, but disappearances? The ministry would never allow it. Ron was still talking about the spell when her thoughts returned to the present.

"Of course, hardly anyone did the potion in the first place, but it was still unnerving when people didn't return. Plus they never figured out if the people still existed in the alternate future after the three days were over. So the argument was that these people could be taking the potion without realizing that they died."

Hermione nodded sullenly. Is this the reason why Draco didn't want her to come here alone? Was it because he was afraid of her finding out? Or was he genuinely concerned with her friends not finding out? Looking back, it seemed silly to think that Ron or Harry would catch her in a lie, and even if they had, would they have even done anything about it?

She realized he had probably been hiding this information the whole time. She doubted that he didn't know that the spell could be made permanent. What did he think she was going to do? Did he think she would try to stay with him in lieu of the life she was already living?

She had trusted him to tell her everything, but that's the nature of a Sytherin: sneaky, selfish, and deceitful. No matter his intentions, she hated feeling tricked.

Hermione stood, lifted the silencing spell, clenched her fists. "We're leaving."

He looked at the redhead confused, then back at Harry, who was avoiding eye contact. Draco knew he was avoiding becoming a victim of Hermione's wrath. He didn't blame him. Moving his last piece, he declared checkmate, and stood from his game.

Hermione and Draco entered a staring contest. Pride against pride. The tension could slice through air itself. She loathed how confident he looked. He should look  _afraid_.

And then Pansy Bloody Parkinson walked into the room.

"DRACOO!" she squealed. "You've finally come to visit me!"

"Pansy," he frowned, dodging her hug.

Her face fell at his rudeness. Her pug nose scrunched up, making her look snobbier than what should be possible. Her head whipped around the room to survey the people's reaction to the embarrassing moment.

So Pansy was Harry's girlfriend? How on earth did that even happen?

Ron and Harry's eyes now seemed to be permanently fixed on the floor. Hermione was thoroughly amused with Pansy being hurt and Draco's non-response. Sure, people shouldn't be happy with someone else's misery, but this was Pansy, and there was absolutely no way- in any future- she could ever see herself being friendly with her.

"I sent you an owl two months ago to come visit me, and once you finally show up, you don't even tell me that you're here? Where are your manners?!" Pansy was definitely hurt by Draco's reaction, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her distress.

"What are you laughing at, Mud-?"

Hermione was about to roll her eyes, but before she could, Pansy's already distinct nose began morphing into a pig snout. Her hands went to her face to cover the disfigurement, but couldn't quite cover it all. She looked around the room to see the spell caster, but no one had their wand out and no one spoke up. Although, if looks were anything to go by, Draco looked as if he were ready to murder.

Sneering at Pansy, Draco left the room with Hermione following close behind. This wasn't the Draco she'd seen for the last day and a half. This was the Draco she was used to. Even if his anger wasn't directed towards her, she hadn't missed this Draco.

Draco grabbed her forearm, and a second later she felt the familiar pull of Apparition.

She opened her eyes and saw her childhood home. Everything about the house was the same, from the blue shutters to the little garden that grew next to the porch. There was a different car in the carport, but cars can only last so long she supposed. Hermione walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. All previous tension was now gone. All of her energy now focused on finally seeing her parents.

She was suddenly nervous. After the war she had restored her parents memories, and they hadn't had the time over summer to restore their relationship. In her life, her parents had practically shut the door on her once they found out what she had done. They lost a year of their lives without agreeing to it. Naturally, Hermione thought, it wasn't going to be fixed over two months.

She heard the doorknob move, and looked straight ahead to see her mother smiling brightly. Her mother's hair was the same colour as usual, but there were more lines creasing her face, showing her true age.

Hermione didn't wait a second longer than needed to open the door before she gave her mom a bone crushing hug. She was glad that they had worked out their problems over the years. If anything, this was the reassurance she needed to know that everything would be okay in the future. She needed this hope.

Her father rounded the corner looking down at some paper. His hair was now completely grey, and like her mom, his face showed the passing of many years. As soon as Hermione saw him she practically ran to him to give him the same hug her mom got. This was by far the best she had felt in months.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the familiar blond giving her mom a hug and kiss on the cheek.

Hermione couldn't help the strange butterflies in her stomach. She had told her parents about Draco's part in her childhood torment. She knew that they knew how terrible he could be, and she was sure she would have told them his part in the war. She also knew, that no matter who she was involved with, she would ensure that they would become part of the family. It seemed she had succeeded.

Most of the conversation was about work, upcoming events, and the wedding. Hermione let her mother give suggestions for their wedding and was pleased that she had her parents approval, even if it wasn't someone they would have expected her to marry.

Somewhere after dinner and through all the talking Hermione had fallen asleep on the couch with Draco. Hermione woke up to Draco nudging her and giving her a kiss on her forehead. "Hermione, wake up, it's time to go home."

"Hmm," Hermione responded, nuzzling closer to Draco.

"Isn't that sweet," Mrs. Granger said, looking at her husband.

Hermione opened her eyes and sat up slowly.

"You ready to go?"

She nodded, giving her parents parting hugs and making sure to tell them she loved them, then apparated home.

Hermione sat on the couch in their living room watching Draco through tired eyes. All the fight in her had left with the visit to her parents. Instead, she felt nothing but giddy happiness, and a little tired from her nap. But she needed to know his reasoning for not telling her about the spell. So instead of going back to sleep like she wanted, Hermione reminded Draco softly, "We need to talk."

 


	6. Second Guessing

Draco glanced in Hermione's general direction before walking into the bedroom. She stared at the wooden door with every passing minute growing more angry.  _Did he just ignore me?_ Hermione stood and marched to the bedroom. She threw the door open, the force making the door hit the wall and bounce back a fraction of the way. Her face was tinted red, and she could feel the anger pouring through her body.

Draco was leaning against the headboard reading a novel, his legs tucked under the comforter. He looked up and waited for her to speak.

He looked far too relaxed for someone who was the sole focus of her anger. Her hand went to her pocket to grab her wand. It wasn't there. Draco pulled her wand from under his pillow and tossed it to her.

"You can try," Draco started, "but as much as you pride yourself to be the brightest witch of your age, I know what I'm up against."

"You didn't seem so sure of yourself yesterday," she warned, her eyes narrow and wand threatening.

"Yes, well, I thought you were eight years older than you actually are, and I was caught off guard," he reminded. "If you're going to barge in, practically tear the door off the hinges, wand-less, and looking like a murderous witch, I'm obviously going to be prepared."

Hermione contemplated throwing a hex his way to test how prepared he really was, but decided against it. It wouldn't achieve anything.

Draco frowned and patted the bed next to him. Hermione stood her ground, not wanting to compromise her position at the door.

"I'm not going to have a conversation with someone who looks like she wants to murder me and run. Sit down and we'll talk," he reasoned. Hermione hesitated, the uncertainty lessening her anger, before moving towards the bed.

Draco's eyes followed her movements, slowly wandering her body, before settling on her lips as she sat down. Hermione's chest felt flushed and her breath hitched. Despite her anger, she wondered how it would fell to kiss him. Would the kiss be soft and loving? Or would it be strong and heated? Tasting him was the only thing she wanted at the moment.

Maybe she was just reading to much into things, she reasoned. She licked her lips, and Draco's gaze darted to her eyes. Had his stare always been this piercing? He stared as if he wanted to devour her. Her self control was limited at the moment, so she sat statue-still, not wanting to make the first move.

This moment was the first time she had ever felt so unsure about herself. She was nervous and excited all at once. Chemistry, connection, lust, call it what you want, but it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Today had taken a strange turn. Although she had understood the relationship of Draco and future Hermione, she had experienced this feeling first hand.

This were her feelings. Her own memories. No one else's.

Knowing she was attracted to Draco was frightening, but there was something between them that, at that unseen moment, she knew she wouldn't be able to have with someone else.

Draco was the first to disconnect from the static between them.

"Would you like to tell me why you're angry?"

The question caught her off guard. The night was doing strange things to her mind. "You're hiding things from me."

Draco raised his eyebrow at the accusation.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, not denying nor confirming the statement.

"Ron told me about the potion. I know I can stay here if I want," she stated.

His expression turned grave. He had been annoyed with the private conversation she had had with Weasley, especially since she had ignored his order to stay away from him, but this? This was far worse than he had thought.

"I want to know why you were hiding that from me."

He cleared his throat and twisted the blanket under his fingers nervously. "I've spent years with you... well, not you, but you know..." He looked away, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "You are the reason I think I'm better person... Why I  _am_  a better person. But you're not her."

He took a large breath and sighed. "I'll admit, I was worried you would want to stay here. You're the past version of the woman that I've fallen in love with, but you don't have the best memories. You don't know the little moments that made us who we are. It wouldn't be fair of you to stay here instead of her. I know they have never proven if people existed after the spell ended, or if they still exist when they take the sustenance potion, but I don't want to live without her... even if that means I wont exist.

"I love her. I even love you in a way, because you are the same person... but it's not the same. I couldn't live with myself if her existence was erased because of this. We've spent every day for years together. Nothing has changed our minds about each other, no matter how much we learned about one another. She's mine. I'm hers. Unconditionally."

Hermione knew it shouldn't, but the confirmation that he had hidden it from her on purpose hurt her. There was a deeper meaning to her hurt she didn't understand, but she stored the pain away to deal with later.

He looked at Hermione, hoping his answer had been substantial. He tried to read her reaction but was unable to. He knew it had probably hurt her feelings, but he decided being completely honest was the best thing he could do at this point.

For a few minutes Hermione twisted her wand in her hands trying to decide how to respond without her voice wavering. Unable to gain control over her emotions, she laid down on the bed next to him facing away.

She counted her breaths for a while before mumbling, "If you know me so well, you would know I would never do something like that if you felt that way."

He hadn't wanted to tell her about the potion because the possibility of losing his Hermione was unbearable. Now that she knew about the potion, he knew that staying would cross her mind. She couldn't help her thoughts, and her mind would naturally look at every possible solution to a problem. He knew she wouldn't stay against his wishes, but he could tell she was becoming attracted to him. Even now, they had both been dangerously close to crossing a line they ought not to cross if they didn't want to complicate things further.

He kept his thoughts to himself knowing she was almost asleep and terminated the lights. Despite his fear of her staying in this world, he still didn't want her to leave his side. Facing away from her, he closed his eyes, memories of his betrothed playing in the darkness behind his lids.

Hermione awoke on her back with half of her body leaning against a warm body. Draco's arm draped across her waist, along with a leg hooked around hers. His masculine smell filled her thoughts, drawing her in and refusing to let her leave. She realized she didn't want to leave. Sure, she would have to leave in the next twenty-four hours, but that didn't mean she had to deny herself the small pleasures of this world ... And this moment was indeed a pleasure. Hermione stayed still, not wanting to wake him.

This was a strange development. No one could feel this way towards someone after only knowing them for two days could they? She thought about leaving, giving herself some space to think about her feelings, but her time was limited, and she didn't want to regret wasting this moment.

She used the opportunity to touch him. Her harmless curiosity allowing her to, carefully, reach down and trace the scar on his left arm. The Dark Mark was ugly, yes, but it didn't represent him. He had changed. He had switched sides at end of the war.

This meant the Draco in her time already knew the fault in his ways. Did that mean there was a chance she could still have this life? Would Draco learn to love her when she arrived back in her time?

She knew these were dangerous thoughts to have. This is why people went crazy after the potion. She couldn't help her thoughts, though. She wanted this life for herself. She wouldn't stay, but surely she could still have his love. The Draco from her time wouldn't be so different from the Draco this time, right? She couldn't have hope though. She'd been warned multiple times to refrain from these types of thoughts. Her mental war raged on while lazily tracing the scar.

Draco's eyes jumped open. He hadn't felt anything from his mark in almost a decade, and although it wasn't a painful feeling, it gave him a deep fear that he hadn't experienced since the war.

As his heart rate calmed to its normal pace, he watched Hermione stare at his arm intently. He knew she was thinking hard about something, but didn't want to disturb her in case she would decide to leave. It was a pleasant surprise that she hadn't left the bed yet, and he wanted her near.

After collecting her thoughts, Hermione glanced at Draco's watchful eyes. She jerked her hand away and moved off the bed in one move.

_Moment over_ , Draco thought, disappointed.

Awkwardly standing a next to the bed, unable to help the blush tinting her cheeks, Hermione asked the day's agenda.

"It's a surprise," he mumbled, rising from the bed. He gave Hermione a look she couldn't read before striding to the bathroom, and adding through the door, "Dress warm."

The cold wind was painful against Hermione's face. She kept her fingers tucked into her jacket pockets keeping body warmth close. There was a great amount of people in Hogsmeade forcing them to hold hands to keep close. Once they left the main stretch of shops, the crowd thinned. They walked along the side road, passing a few remaining businesses, and arrived in the residential portion of the town. Once more, she found herself standing in front of the largest home on the street.

"You know where we are right?" Draco asked.

"This is where you proposed," she replied.

Draco looked at her from the corner of his eye while facing the house. "What do you think?" he asked, nodding towards the house.

Hermione turned to examine the house properly. Her first impression had been that it was nearly too grand for the area. However, somehow the composition of the surrounding landscape blended the house soundly with the rest of the homes.

The house was made of a light colour stone with double doors in the front, and a porch surrounding the lower front half of the house. There were matching turrets on the sides of house, displaying its age to the world.

She knew this location was in a safe, close-knit community in the wizarding world. Of course, she loved it. She wondered why he had asked her, but quickly made the connection.

"This is the house you bought instead of a ring?" she asked, her face lighting up while she started up the path to the door.

Draco followed, pleased with her response. Now he wouldn't have so much anxiety about showing the house to his Hermione. If he had doubts before, they were gone now. Draco unlocked the door, and followed her around the house, but otherwise let her explore the rooms without interference.

Hermione noticed that it was already furnished with similar furniture to their flat in the Muggle world. There was an updated kitchen, a living room, a dinning room, a private study, six bedrooms, and five bathrooms in total. The study had a wall of empty shelves that Draco informed would be filled with whatever books she wanted.

This was a home she could dream about. Hermione ended the tour in the living room. Draco sat at the piano bench playing an uplifting song she was unfamiliar with, while she sat on the couch. Hermione looked around the room and noticed a subtle difference in decoration from their flat.

"Malfoy, at the flat there are no pictures, but here you have framed pictures in almost every room... Uh- and well, I was just wondering why that is?" she asked once the song had ended.

Without looking at her, he patted the empty seat next to him on the bench. Hermione shuffled to the seat, and he began playing the piano once more. This time, Hermione recognized the song. Noticing he intended for her to play along with him, she began to play and he answered, "I grew up in a home without pictures. There were no memories of my life lying around. Instead, we had the forgotten memories of portraits on the wall. You're pictures make me uncomfortable, but I know you would like to see them daily, so I took them from the box under the bed and framed them. You're parents house is full of pictures, you grew up around them, and so they make you feel better."

"It's just a little out of my comfort zone, but nothing I can't handle I suppose."

He was right. The pictures did make her feel as if she were at home, even if she didn't recognize some of the people within the frames.

The rest of the day was spent arguing politics, discussing books, and reliving their days spent at Hogwarts. If there hadn't been blood-prejudice in the world, and he hadn't been such a prat in school, Hermione decided that they probably would have gotten along fairly well. They had accomplished nothing, but Hermione was dreading the day's end.

Draco checked the time on his phone. "It's nearly nine, and we're supposed to be at dinner. Do you want to go?"

One of the house elves from the manor had brought lunch for them, so it was possible to stay here a while longer, but she decided against it. This was, after all, her first and possibly last chance to go on a date with him.

"Let's stick to the schedule."

They apparated to an attractive restaurant where the dimly lit tables were all completely occupied. There were white tablecloths covering the tables, the staff dressed in suits, and customers wearing formal attire. Hermione instantly felt out of place. They were certainly not dressed for this type of restaurant. Despite her reluctance to stay, the hostess didn't seem to mind. Upon seeing the couple, the hostess immediately greeted them and led them up a staircase to a small room on the second floor.

The room was small and had painted red walls with candles lighting the room within four small chandeliers and curtains covering the windows. There was an arrangement of freshly cut white roses on a small table next to the door. Romantic music was playing in the background, and there was a lone waiter by the table ready to serve. Hermione was in awe.

After Draco ordered their food, and two glasses of wine, Hermione went to ask how he booked the room on such short notice, but was stopped by the sight in front of her. Hermione couldn't find her voice, and her curiosity was driven to the back of her mind by the striking man sitting in front of her.

Draco's already angular features were enhanced by the flame's shadows, his storm-grey eyes intense, the look driving her mind to forbidden places. Her heart felt as if it had stopped and come back twofold. His hands were resting on the table in front of him, with one finger tracing the bottom of his water glass. Her entire body was tingling, and if his stare was portraying his thoughts, Hermione knew where his thoughts were wandering. She wondered how she could go back to a world without the angst and desire she was feeling.

The waiter's soft footsteps were enough to break the trance Hermione had been caught in. He returned with the wine and filled their glasses before departing once more.

Draco looked calm and composed, as if the moment had never happened. Leaning back in his seat, and taking a sip of wine he looked away. He wondered if she could tell the effect she had on him. She was so beautiful in every setting.

Fighting her body for control, and trying to ignore her previous feelings, she asked abruptly,  **"** If you could change anything about the past what would it be?"

"If I could change anything about the past?" he asked, looking at her quizzically- The question came out much louder than the setting deserved. Draco felt like she was expecting a certain answer, but he shrugged and he answered honestly, "I wouldn't change anything."

Hermione didn't understand. They may be young, but they had lived through a war, surely there was something he would change.

"What about the war?" Hermione asked.

Draco made a face, clearly displeased with the direction of the conversation. "If I had sided differently, as much as my mother would have despised working with the Order, she would have joined if I had. And what then? Then there would have been no one to save Potter in the end. Unless you think he would have somehow escaped without her help, it would have changed the outcome for the worse, I'm sure."

Hermione could understand his reasoning, but wouldn't accept his original answer.

"Would about the torment you put me through during school?" she prompted.

"I wouldn't change that either. It's true, that we hated each other, but we have a history together. That history, although bad, made us closer in some explainable way. We have both hated and loved each other, and I think that has made us stronger. We've experienced each other at our utmost worst, and that has paved the path to a love that most people couldn't even imagine." His looked away thoughtfully for a moment, trying to find a simpler explanation. "We knew hate well, but we know love better. And I would loath to give that up."

Hermione understood. She was starting to really regret this experiment. Knowing she would never have this was a crushing weight on her heart. This was her last night in the world. The days had felt so short.

Much to her surprise, she didn't want to leave.

 


	7. The Invitation

Hermione woke up once more in Draco's arms. She shifted her body to face him, waking him in the process. Draco propped his arm up to meet her gaze better, and Hermione mirrored the action. Their eyes wandered each others face, attempting to read the others feelings on what was to take place. It was bittersweet for Draco, and only bitter for Hermione.

Hermione glanced at his lips, once more wondering what it would feel like to taste them. This was her last chance. This would be the last chance to see it feels like to kiss Draco Malfoy. Maintaining eye contact, Hermione leaned in.

Noticing her intentions, Draco leaned back and shook his head. It wouldn't be fair of him to kiss her. It might make her want to stay, or worse, it could make her want to continue this behavior in her time. He couldn't risk her losing her mind over him. She had to live in her time, and let things fall into place naturally.

"It's not right," he whispered.

It hurt. She hadn't been entirely sure what he was going to do. It was a silly idea in the first place, really. She'd be leaving within the hour anyways. So, at least the rejection would be short lived.

Hermione flopped backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling, much like her first day here.

"Hermione?" Her eyes shifted to the voice. He looked concerned, but seemed to want to talk about something other than their second almost-kiss. She waited patiently for him to continue.

"It's almost time, and I want you to promise me something."

Hermione sat up, and Draco followed suit. She thought about refusing, after all, he had just rejected her. Instead, she nodded. "Anything."

"Can you promise me that you won't go after me when you're back in your time?"

Anything but that. What was so wrong about trying to get someone to fall in love with you?

"You can't attempt this future Hermione- You'll drive yourself crazy," he worried. Had she said that out loud? "This future is impossible now. You-"

"It's not fair!" she shouted, slamming her hands on the comforter. "I didn't want to do this in the first place! I've never felt anything like this before. I've only begun to scratch the surface of... of whatever this is!" she said, moving her hand between them.

Hermione took a moment to regain her composure but was unable. Thoughts of leaving and never seeing him again were playing in her mind. She could feel the loneliness setting in, and he was still in front of her. She couldn't stop her heart feeling heavy, knowing she couldn't have him. It was to much. The second the first tears started to drop, Draco moved to comfort her. It took all of ten minutes for her to calm down enough to hold a conversation.

"I won't attempt to talk to Draco on two conditions," Hermione said, solemnly while wiping the remaining dampness off her cheeks and sitting up from his lap.

"Okay," he said, hesitantly.

Hermione left the room and came back with a piece of paper. She scribbled on the paper, and gave it to Draco. While waiting for his response she laid on the bed and propped herself on her hand. He looked apprehensive, but nodded and wrote on it as well. He handed it to her and while she studied his answers, he asked, "What's your second term?"

Hermione wasn't sure if she should ask this of him, but if he was going to deny her attempts to gain a life like this than she was had try one last time. "Kiss me," she whispered, hopeful.

To her surprise, Draco moved swiftly.

He pushed her flat on the bed, straddling her. With one hand holding her hands above her head he pushed his lips against hers while moving his unoccupied hand to hold her hip underneath her shirt in an iron grip. Hermione wasted no time in savoring the moment. Drowning in the sensation when he bit her lip, swimming in frenzied lust when his hands kept her from her own movements. His mouth drifted from hers and moved down her neck, sucking lightly on the tender skin.

And before it ended, she landed softly back on the stone floor of Hogwarts.

She hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye.

Hermione sat wide-eyed with her hands covering her mouth for what felt like an eternity before an unsuspecting Ron landed in front of her, grinning from ear to ear.

"That was brilliant! And to think that could have happened!"

"You had a good time, I assume?" she asked softly.

"It was like a dream world. I had just retired, and my wife and I were touring with the Chudley Cannons! And they were playing some of the best Quidditch I have ever seen! I think we had a chance at the Quidditch World Cup," he finished, wistfully. She was only half listening to what Ron was saying, caught in her own memories.

Hermione cut off his daydream and snapped, "Are you not the least bit upset that you can't have that future?"

He was shocked at her outburst. Something bad must have happened, he thought, but he decided to answer her question first. "No, I can always retire and tour with the Cannons... What happened Hermione?"

"I don't really want to talk about it right now. Maybe later?" she asked, hoping to get some alone time.

He shrugged off her tone and didn't push any further. Hermione assumed he noticed she was bad company at the moment. He said a quick goodbye and moved to give her a kiss, but she dodged it unapologetically.

Rolling his eyes he nodded, "I guess we'll talk about it later."

After he left, and Hermione grew cold and uncomfortable from sitting on the floor, she left for the library. She was greeted with the smell of old books and the sound of silence. It was mundane enough for her mood at the moment. She sat close to the bookshelves, spreading her books over the table, and pulling out a quill and parchment to inscribe two incantations:  _Ouvrir Grotte, Sous._

She needed to copy down Draco's answer from memory. It was important that she remembered the information. Why was it important though? Why had that been one of her conditions? The question seemed so rational at the time, but now she was second guessing her reasoning for asking. Maybe it really was just her curiosity- or maybe she thought one day she would be able to make use of them. Not trying to dwell to much on why she had asked him, she charmed the paper blank, folded it neatly, and secured it in her pocket.

She turned to studying for her Charms exam that she'd been worrying over before she had left for the weekend. After a few hours of studying, a tall girl with black hair towered over her table. She looked athletic; her long legs were lean, much like the rest of her. She was beautiful with pale skin and wide blue eyes.

"I've been looking for you all weekend. Uh... I mean- never mind that. I'm Eileen, and me and a couple other people are looking for new members for our study group for Advanced Potions and we were wondering ifyouwouldliketobeincluded?" she rushed.

Hermione vaguely recognized her as a sixth year Ravenclaw. They weren't even in the same section of potions, which made Hermione doubt that she'd be learning anything new. "That's not a study group," she said bluntly. "You just want me to tutor you."

Ignoring Hermione's tone, the sporty Ravenclaw replied just as excited as before, "Actually, I'm more advanced than most in my class, and the rest of the study group is in your year, so you wouldn't have to worry about us dragging you down. The meetings are always fun. Most of the time is spent socializing, but everyone always learns something when they leave. Please? Just come to one, and if you don't like it you can leave."

There was nothing that could possibly make Hermione want to go to this. She wanted to go back to her dormitory, wallow in self pity, recover, and move on. A study group just was not on her agenda. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going," she finalized.

Eileen nodded her head, gave a small smile, and left. Hermione packed her books into her rucksack . She didn't want people to talk to. She needed to start her recovery process, so she left for the girls dormitory.

No one was in her room when she got back. She curled shamelessly into a ball on top of her wool blanket. Staring emptily at the night stand next to her she allowed her tears to pass unrestrained, dampening the pillow. She didn't know how much time had passed, but Hermione was almost to the point where she was going to get under the blankets when Lavender entered the room complaining about the cold.

Hermione didn't even register that Lavender was speaking to her until she felt a wave of warmth. She moved her eyes, but remained in the same position.

Lavender seemed to understand she didn't want to talk, but also couldn't refrain from commenting. "Just because someone broke your heart doesn't mean that you shouldn't take care of yourself," she chastised, with a strange mixture of animosity and sympathy. "You should cast warming charms, or you're going to get sick."

Hermione blinked twice before closing her eyes. Too tired to comment, but too miserable to go to sleep.

Somewhere along the tears, she fell asleep.

Hermione woke up feeling strangely empty. She sat up in bed trying to remember yesterday when a flood of memories consumed her thoughts. All the memories felt so distant, like a dream, only it wasn't a dream. The bed felt colder without Draco. It wasn't unbearable, just a bit uncomfortable and a lot of loneliness.

She checked the time. It was too early for breakfast, but she didn't want to stay in bed all morning. So she walked down to the Gryffindor common room. She sat down in the corner of the room and began reading over her Potions book. The book reminded her about the Ravenclaw's offer. She was starting to feel bad about the way she had talked to Eileen. It hadn't been the girl's fault she was in a poor mood, but the offer really wasn't appealing.

The common room had students leaving in small clusters to go to breakfast. Hermione's stomach growled, and she realized she had missed all her meals yesterday. Instead of leaving on her own, she waited for her friends before joining the masses to the great hall.

Ron and Harry came down the stairs a few minutes later, looking groggy. Neither looked ready for morning classes. Ron's found her sitting in the corner, after telling Harry he would be down soon, he walked alone towards Hermione, sat down at the table, and leaned forward to place his hands over Hermione's.

"You have to tell me what happened," he spoke, sincerely. "I need to make sure you're okay."

"I'm not." She shook her head, willing herself not to let her emotions take over. "When I got to the future I was engaged to Malfoy," she sighed.

Ron's eyes widened and his mouth dropped. "You can't be serious! How did you manage being stuck with that git for three days?" It was clear Ron was joking, but Hermione wasn't in the mood.

"He was actually decent, wonderful even." Hermione spent the next ten minutes updating Ron on her three day stay. Somewhere in the conversation he had drawn his hand away from hers, knowing that things had obviously changed since her time there. "And then we kissed," she finished.

She knew that technically he could say she had cheated, but the goal of the spell was to immerse oneself in the future for better insight, so she hoped he wouldn't be to harsh on her. However, instead of commenting on the kiss, he asked, "So why are you so upset?"

She had just spilled her heart to him and he couldn't see why she was upset? Merlin, she was on her way to falling- no she wouldn't go there. She was on her way to having feelings for Malfoy, and she was forced back into this life, where she can't even have a conversation with Draco without him calling her a Mudblood. Did he really not understand why she was upset?

"I'm upset, Ronald, because all I want to do, even right now, is march to the dungeons and convince Draco that we would be a perfect match and could have a wonderful life together-"

"You can't be serious Hermione!" Ron interrupted, "The Malfoy now is not the same Malfoy you met. They're different people."

She glared at Ron. "If you had let me finish, as much as I want to do that, I made a promise that I wouldn't. So don't worry. I may be unhappy, but I'll refrain from speaking to him."

"So, uh- what happens with us?" he asked, his eyebrows drawn together, concerned. Hermione was surprised he hadn't been upset with her. He was just concerned about their relationship.

Hermione felt a tug on her heart. He was such a good friend, and such an understanding person. He didn't deserve only half her heart. She jumped out of her seat and hugged him. Mumbling her apology into his shirt.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry." She straightened after a moment to see his response. His brittle smile told her that he didn't want it to be this way but that he understood.

Ron stood up.  "I'm hungry. What about you?"

She assumed he asked in order to get away from the now-awkward moment. Although, he could very well just be hungry. Hermione nodded, and they walked together in silence to the dinning hall where Ron sat across from her.

She knew that she should have sat on the other side of the table with Ron, but just because she couldn't talk to Draco didn't mean she couldn't check up on him, right? Besides, this was her normal seat, so she wasn't going out of her way.

Facing the Slytherin table, her eyes scanned for the one person that she shouldn't be looking for. When she found him her heart jumped. His cool grey eyes were already watching her. He wasn't looking at her with animosity like he had in previous years. There was no sneer or look of disgust she would have expected. He looked so much younger now. She realized that she had never paid much attention to the boy that was in front of her. There was no stubble, his hair was cut short, and he looked thinner, less toned, than she remembered. He might look different than her Draco, but he was still beautiful.

He raised his eyebrow at her and looked away. Hermione followed his eyes to the seat next to him, where he said something unreadable to the dark skinned boy on his left. Blaise looked up quickly, smirked at Hermione, and gave her a wink.

_What the-? Did he just wink at me?_ Hermione was slightly disturbed to say the least.

She quickly looked at the food in front of her that she had yet to touch. With her heart racing and hands shaking, she grabbed a muffin from the center of the table. Her mind was buzzing while she practically inhaled her breakfast. No one had said a word to her all breakfast, so she scrambled from the table without a goodbye. Leaving in a hurry, she spotted Eileen turning the corner.

"Eileen!" she yelled, earning her bemused looks from various students in the hall while she sprinted to follow the dark-haired girl. Rounding the corner, Hermione ran into a warm body, that she was sure was made of steel, and fell on her bum, hard.

She looked up to see the Ravenclaw looking down at her as if she were crazy. Maybe she was crazy. Merlin, she felt crazy. She was almost one hundred percent sure her eyes were playing tricks on her. Her imagination had run wild at breakfast- Draco would never stare at her, and Blaise would never smirk at her- let alone wink. If one look at Draco could cause her mind to formulate that pathetic of a hallucination, she needed to find a hobby- and fast.

Staring up at Eileen from her spot on the floor, her breathing labored from her short sprint, she asked, "Can I still join the study group?"

Eileen smiled broadly and helped Hermione off of the floor. "Tuesdays and Thursdays, seven PM, Room of Requirement."

_This is what I need. New friends, studying, a task- something to keep my mind busy._

Before walking away Eileen remembered to ask, "You know how to get in right?"

Hermione laughed, knowing the girl was only a third year when people would meet in the Room of Requirement for Dumbledore's Army.

"Yes. I've been there once or twice."


	8. The News

 

Breakfast time at Hogwarts again.

She opted to eat all remaining meals in the kitchens yesterday in order to avoid her problem, Draco. She  was grateful she hadn't had any classes with with him. Today was a different story. To her chagrin, she had two classes with Malfoy- Potions and Transfiguration. She'd have to face him sooner or later. 'Face him' meaning sitting in the same room without acknowledging each other.

Seeing him shouldn't be this difficult, but it was.

Hermione sat down, sparing a glance at the Slytherin table. Nothing was amiss, no winks or smiles, and no one was watching her. At least her mind wasn't playing tricks on her today.

She turned to Harry and asked him about his weekend. She had most of her classes with Harry yesterday, but after breakfast she had kept to herself, consumed with thoughts of her strange encounter.

"It was... different without you two here," Harry said, glancing at Ginny who was arguing with her brother about something. Hermione nodded knowingly. Anytime the couple was together Ron insisted that they should join them, but Hermione knew the truth. Harry wanted to spend more alone with Ginny.

Hermione watched him fix the strap on his bag and glance around the hall while they were leaving. Keeping his voice low, he confessed, "Something else happened over the weekend." His green eyes shifting between nearby people, making sure they weren't listening. "The Prophet confirmed that dragons were stolen over the weekend. The article didn't say much, but I think there's something going on, something dark."

Hermione's eyes widened for a moment. Dragons are incredibly dangerous. Before the ministry mandated that all the dragons were captured, they would to leave entire cities engulfed in flames. That's why they were only handled by professionals. That's why they were XXXXX classified creatures. But how could someone  _steal_  a  _dragon?_

"Ron and I talked about it yesterday. If this is the work of dark wizards, we're going to take Kinglsey up on his offer and leave school to become Aurors."

She knew she couldn't talk them out of it. She knew this was something they wanted to do, so they would do it regardless of what anyone else said. "Only if necessary, right?"

"We're not leaving unless that's the case," he confirmed, solemnly.

"Do you want me to help?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't want her to think that she should to leave her studies again. "There aren't nearly as many of them as us anymore, and you can help us by staying here."

She knew he wouldn't want her to come with them, but she had to offer. That's what friends did.

She pushed the thoughts from her head. Thinking of Harry and Ron chasing criminals that were clever enough to steal dragons was something she didn't want to think about until she had to.

They were only two other people in the class when they entered. As the years went on, Hermione noticed that students no longer showed up to class early, most opting to come in seconds before the professor. The classes were different this year than ever before at Hogwarts. Students from all houses were in classes together, and there was about half a class extra of people, since so many were unable to continue their education during the war. This year there were the seven years, like Ginny, and the senior seventh years, like Hermione.

She led Harry to the front of the room where they took their seats and waited for the lecture. She heard Draco when he came in the room, and willing herself not to turn around, she listened intently to his conversation.

He was talking about owling his family, and telling others to do the same. It didn't sound important, but his tone said otherwise. He sounded worried. Similar to when he had thought that she would want to stay with him in the future. It concerned her, but this wasn't her business, and worrying did nothing. She couldn't help him.

Hermione felt as if she were being watched all class, but when class ended, and she turned around, there was no one watching her. It seemed her momentary insanity was coming back.  _It's not momentary if it keeps happening,_ Hermione warned herself.

Free hour passed without a hitch, but when she sat in her normal seat in Potions, she had a clear view of the Slytherin that she, again, shouldn't be looking at. After being handed their assignments, Hermione scoffed. This was the highest level potions the school offered, and they were brewing a third year potion. She was about to raise her hand to question the assignment, but Draco beat her to it.

"Antidote to Uncommon Poisons?" he snorted. "I could do this in my sleep." Tossing the paper onto the table, he rolled his eyes. "What makes you think this is worth my time?" Hermione was sure everyone in the class agreed, but Draco's attitude was shocking. All the students watched wide-eyed for the professor's reaction.

"Mister Malfoy, I've chosen this assignment, because it has been brought to the attention of the ministry that there are criminals that are attacking witches and wizards, and they're not using... Well, let's just say they are no longer using their usual means to inflict harm." His shoulders slumped, and he hobbled to his desk. "We are all to do our parts in restoring order, and I need as many capable students as I can right now to finish this as quickly as possible. I am sure you all remember quite well that the third years can not finish this timely, and more importantly, correctly. So get to work,"  he concluded. After slowly descending into his chair, he began working on his own project.

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, knowing that the assignment would further increase their desire to leave school. When the class resumed its normal conversation level, Ron asked in a low voice, "Do you think it's the same people that stole the dragons?"

Harry and Hermione remained silent, frowns etched into their faces. There was no doubt it was the same people, and Hermione felt ill. She knew they'd be leaving soon, off to fight people that steal dragons- people that have the ministry asking schools for help. She just hoped they would say goodbye before they left.

Hermione finished her potion first and gave it to Ron, knowing he wouldn't be able to finish his as fast as Harry, and that they would be itching to leave as soon as they could. She began finishing Ron's incomplete potion when Harry and Ron turned in their potions and left.

She was almost done with the potion when Blaise invited himself into to Harry's previous seat. Hermione looked for Draco, wondering if he was going to sit with her as well, but the blonde was no where to be found. A slight pang in her chest hit her.  _She really needed to stop thinking of him._

"He's not here."

Hermione's head turned so fast that her hair whipped her face. "What?" she asked, choking on the last part of the word.

"Draco, he left a while ago," he said lazily, picking an imaginary speck of lint from his pant leg. "I'm not here to bother you, don't worry."

She was concerned he knew who she had been looking for. She must not be being as inconspicuous as she thought she was. However, she was thankful he misinterpreted  _why_  she was looking for him. She kept silent and returned to working. One more ingredient, three more stirs, and she would be done and out.

"So you survived the war..." he said, trying to break the ice. "Congratulations."

It was a bad joke that had been going around, and Hermione didn't spare a chuckle. She had lost so many in the war that the joke fell flat. She gave him a blank look and stirred one last time.

He quickly tried to amend. "It was only a joke."

Putting the cauldrons contents into a vial, she stood. Blaise jumped in front of her to block her from leaving and added, "It's just a sour joke running in our house right now. I'm sorry if I offended you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know it's a joke," she said, sidestepping him, only to be blocked once more.

She stared at him this time. He was at least six feet tall, thin, with impeccable posture. His oval face had high cheekbones, a straight nose, and short hair.

But why was he even bothering to talk to her? His light-brown almond shaped eyes contained no malice, which was new for someone like him- a pure-blood Slytherin. He flashed her a cocky grin, revealing perfectly straight, white, teeth. Blaise watched her evaluating him.

His smile cut her thoughts short. She realized had been looking at him much longer than would be considered normal. Clearing her throat, she asked what he wanted.

"I'm just trying to make amends to the past, Granger," he purred.

The tone of his words sent a slight blush into her cheeks. She mumbled an 'it's fine', and stepped around him. Blaise put his potion down and left without another word.

Walking up to the old man hunched over his work, she started, "Professor Slughorn?"

Moving his hand to put in the last ingredient while he half acknowledged her. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

If Harry and Ron were going to help fight criminals on the outside, she was going to help as much as she could from Hogwarts.

"Sir, I was wondering if there was anything else I can do to help aid. There's a group of us working to better ourselves at potions, and I'm sure if you need us to help in some way, we're willing."

"Yes!" he said, leaping from the chair in a way Hermione had never seen a man his age do before. "Professor Sprout has been using her classes to acquire bursting mushrooms in the Forbidden Forest all day!" Sending Hermione away with instructions and a note to collect ingredients from Professor Sprout, Hermione left for the greenhouse.

Hermione paced outside the Room of Requirement, carrying what felt like ten pounds of ingredients on her back. The door appeared, and Hermione entered. She tossed her bag on the first of ten stations the room had formed. She had asked for a potions lab, and was not disappointed. On each table sat two cauldrons, two knives, a mallet, and four stirrers, two long and two short. There was a bookshelf on the left side of the room filled with varying sized vials that sparkled beautifully in the brightly lit room.

Hermione didn't know how many people were in the study group, but she hoped there would be enough tables. Hermione promised at least one hundred completed vials by the next potions class. It wasn't a large amount for him to request, after all, fire protection potions only lasted an upwards of ten minutes.

In normal circumstances, the potion was useful for saving people from small house fires and such, but these weren't normal circumstances. Slughorn told her there were five dragons stolen. Meaning, five dragons were on the loose and a current, imminent, threat. Whatever the study group could accomplish would be helpful.

Hermione began the first potion, there was still five minutes before they had agreed to meet. When the potion turned blue, Hermione saw Eileen step through the passage smiling, but after looking around the room, her face fell.

Hermione gave an awkward smile, and a nervous laugh. That was not the reaction she was hoping for. Was the room not large enough? Was something missing?

"What's-" Hermione started, but was cut off by Draco and Blaise's laughter while entering the room. When they saw the room there was a moment of silence before their faces fell as well. Clearly, no one was expecting the room she had asked for. Draco looked at the Ravenclaw confused, and followed her gaze to Hermione.

Rolling his eyes at Eileen, he jeered, "Leave it to Granger to take over the first day."

The comment genuinely hurt her. Not only because of who he was, but she really thought this was what the room should look like. This was a Potions study group for Merlin sake!  _What were they expecting?_  Hermione was about to defend herself, but remembered that she probably shouldn't talk to Draco unless necessary, so she let his insult pass.

Draco and Eileen walked to the back of the room without another comment. They sat together in the furthest spot from Hermione, closer, she thought, than should be possible in lab chairs. Hermione instantly felt jealous.  _Were they going to be this way the entire time?_

Blaise sat down at her table and asked what she was working on, reminding Hermione that she was going to ask them for help. Speaking to everyone, she said loudly, "Actually, I was wondering if the group could work on the Ice Powder potion? As you all should know, there were five dragons stolen. So, the Aurors need as much of it as possible, for a worst case scenario."

Eileen was leaning on Draco, her face nuzzled into his neck. Hermione's heart fell. If this is what she would have to deal with twice a week, she didn't want to be a part of it. However, right now, she needed their help.

Without moving from Draco to talk, the Ravenclaw replied, "Hermione, we meet here for  _Advanced_ potions, and more importantly to have  _fun_."

Draco scoffed, "She doesn't know how to have fun."

Eileen looked up at him, appalled at the comment, and hit his arm. Draco looked down at the girl coolly and stood up, the change in position making Eileen lose her balance and fall from the stool.

Red faced and embarrassed, she pushed herself from the floor, and snatched her book from the counter. Her footfalls echoed loudly in the empty room as she left.

Draco snorted at the girl's departure. Glaring at Hermione, he snapped, "This isn't your group! We don't owe you-"

"It's for the Ministry," she quickly defended.

"I don't care who it's for," he shot. "You can't just commandeer this group to do whatever you want-"

"They need help!" Hermione yelled, flailing her arms. "Dragons were  _stol_ -"

"I don't care!" he seethed, "I don't give a  _fuck_  if they need help! We're not here for you to boss around!"

Hermione couldn't believe this. All she wanted was to help people who needed it, and he was treating her like the selfish one.  _Was he always such a prat?_

Hermione thought back to what future Draco had said about his years after Hogwarts. Maybe the years he had been ostracized from his friends had changed him significantly. Maybe it wasn't possible for Draco to be decent now. This wasn't her Draco. No, this was Malfoy- the real Malfoy.

She knew she was tearing up, not only because of how he was acting, but because she just wasn't ready to face the truth- this Draco was nothing like the one she knew.

"Draco," Blaise said calmly, "Why don't you catch up with Eileen. She seemed pretty upset."

Draco glared at Blaise, but snatched his bag, and left without another word. The room felt so empty. All she wanted was to help the ministry, to help her friends. They would be out fighting soon, and she felt so useless.

Hermione leaned on the table and covered her face with her hands. Why did that bloody Ravenclaw ask her to join. Surely she wasn't so uninformed to not know that Malfoy hates her. She had even said that the other members had wanted her there! What a load of bullocks!

"You okay?" Blaise asked, carefully. "I would say that he normally doesn't act like that, but you Gryffindors always seem to bring out the worst in him."

She felt like breaking down, their first conversation since she came back, and he already made her feel as if she were scum. Gaining control over her voice, she managed, "Who else is coming, Zabini?"

She could practically hear his smirk in his answer, "It's just you and me now."

She felt like crawling under a rock and staying there. There were twenty cauldrons set up because she was expecting high attendance, and there was only four people? Four! No wonder they didn't look happy with the room, they were expecting social time for four people, not a lab assignment for twenty.

She felt so foolish. And to top things off, she promised professor Slughorn 100 potions! There was no way she could complete that many in two days, especially on top of her studies.

"I need to get back to work," she mumbled, dismissing him." I have a hundred due by Thursday."

He raised an eyebrow. "Let's get to work then."

"We won't be able to get all these done. There's just not enough time tonight," she said, defeated.

"Well," he drawled, "I guess we'll just have to meet up again and finish."

Hermione was pleased he was offering his help for the next two days. It was nice to have someone willing to help, even if it was someone she barely knew.

He grabbed her knife and sliced the first of the mushrooms. Dropping the sliced bits into the cauldron, he teased, "By the way, you should know that your hair doubles in size when you're mad."

Hermione giggled and shook her head. It was such an odd comment that she felt her dread of the next days pass, the stinging embarrassment replaced with a wave of nervousness, with an elated undertone.  _Maybe these meetings won't be so bad after all._


	9. Intentions Pt. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intentions Pt. II will be posted later today! Thanks for reading! -Lights

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about how lucky she was that Blaise offered to help her complete all 100 potions. And in less than two days! All of her free periods were spent with him, along with meals that they took in the kitchens to continue working. It was such a kind, selfless gesture. She was beginning to think she was making a friend. He was easy going, smart, and although not very talkative, he had a way of making her laugh. Which, right now, she needed.

They had planned on walking to class together, but Hermione wanted to check in with Harry and make sure there was no new news on the dragon thieves. She walked alongside Harry, who informed her that there was no news on from the Order, but that they would be leaving at midnight by Portkey. She knew this was coming, but she still felt tears forming. She didn't know when the next time she would see him would be. Unlike previous adventures, she wouldn't be joining them, and wouldn't be able to stand with them when they faced danger. After wiping the tears on her jacket sleeve, and giving Harry a hug, they entered the classroom.

Blaise and Draco were already seated, along with two other people. It was a change from the usual. She couldn't remember even one occasion where they arrived in a class before her.

Following Harry's light footsteps, she walked the aisle between the wooden tables. When she got close enough to where her neck began turning in order to watch them, she turned her attention to the worn-down podium directly in front of her, and refused to let her eyes shift.

She didn't want them to catch her watching them. It was an odd dilemma. On one hand, she wanted to say hello, but on the other, she didn't know if Blaise and her could be classified as friends yet. He wasn't obligated to talk to her if he didn't want to, but she also didn't want to seem rude by not acknowledging them. A voice in her head was also warning her to stay away from Draco. Not only because of the promise, but he had been complete arse last time they had seen each other.

As she walked past them, Hermione felt a tug on her rucksack pulling her backwards. The pull itself wasn't hard, but she was walking so fast she had to take two steps back to avoid falling backwards.

She turned around to see what she had caught on, but all she saw was Blaise's hand in midair moving back to the table to rest. He raised an eyebrow and attempted to cover a smile at her almost-fall. His reaction made her laugh nervously. She was glad he had made the decision to say hello for her, but sitting next to Blaise was one very disgruntled Draco. Obviously, she wasn't the only one still upset with yesterday's encounter. She looked between the two wondering if Blaise was going to say anything before Draco blew his top. Fortunately, he did.

"Would you like to sit with us?" he asked, ignoring the angry blond next to him. Hermione looked at Draco, who was now staring at Blaise with complete contempt.

Hermione looked for Harry, who was looking at the episode through narrowed eyes, waiting for Hermione's cue to jump in. He wasn't the only one staring either. There were at least a dozen people watching the interaction, speaking in hushed whispers that would surely make their way into the rumor mill. She hadn't had the time to catch Harry up on the last few days, so he didn't know about her new friendship with Blaise.

Dismissing Harry and declining Blaise, she shook her head. "I'm going to sit with Harry. I'll see you in potions."

Hermione turned to leave once more, but another tug stopped her. "Hermione?" He questioned while letting go of her bag for the second time. Looking up at her through thick, dark lashes, he asked, "Will you sit with me then?"

She smiled genuinely and nodded once before making her way to the front of the room.

As soon as the lecture ended Harry pushed his chair away from the desk sharply, making a harsh screeching noise, before turning towards Hermione. "What on earth was that about?" He asked, shifting his eyes to the back of the room to indicate what he was referring to.

Hermione internally rolled her eyes. She was allowed to interact with people in a friendly manner, no matter who they were. Not looking for a fight, she replied simply, "Blaise is a friend."

 _Of course_  that wasn't a good enough for Harry. "Since when?  _Why?_ "

She knew she'd have to explain it to him at some point, but the way he was asking the questions, as if she were committing treason, made her want to be purposely short with him. "Since he's been helping me with some private work, and he's not as bad as you think he is."

"What does 'not as bad as you think he is' even mean? And if you need help, I'm here right now!" he practically shouted.

"Let me rephrase that. He's not bad at all. And you won't be here after today! Who is going to help me then?" She was running out of patience for having to defend herself. She could talk to whomever she pleased.

"I just," she sighed. "I needed help, and he offered. End of discussion."

"Okay," Harry conceded, "Fine, but just know that if he, or Malfoy, cause you any trouble you should come to me first."

"Thanks Harry, I will," Hermione replied and walked away. She sat down in an empty room and pulled out her books. She only had an hour until her next class, and she needed to finish the homework that she'd been neglecting the past few days.

Walking down the empty corridor to potions, she heard a noise from behind her that made her hair stand on end. She was sure she had heard footsteps.

She snatched her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at the clear air surrounding her. Shifting her arm in no particular direction, she squinted, looking for any abnormality. She knew someone was there.

A slight tingle crept up the right side of neck from someone grazing her hair, while a menacing voice whispered. "Boo."

Hermione turned around and shouted the first spell that came to mind. "Stupefy!"

Unable to see the target, she moved around with one hand still gripping her wand and the other brushing the air to search for the perpetrator. She internally cursed herself for not hitting her target, and from the corner of her eye she saw a figure form in thin air. She should have known he would search her out.

"What do you want Malfoy?" she sighed, lowering her wand.

"You see me and lower your wand? And to think that the very same brain is the one that kept Potter alive in the war. How ever did you survive?"

Ignoring the jab, and keeping her wand at her side, she shrugged. "We mostly survived on luck, strategy, and towards the end, skill."

Draco didn't reply. Instead, he whipped his wand out, stopping short only five centimeters from her nose.

After the war, it seemed that no one took him seriously. People no longer looked up to him. They no longer saw him as a respectable wizard. He could feel his anger boiling over. He hated that she was so quick to lower her wand.  _She thinks I'm weak too_.

He didn't want them to be friends. He wanted respect. "Don't you remember the fear that stole you when you were caught by the snatchers? How about the pain while you lay on my manor's floor, screaming, while my aunt tortured you? Remember that? Have you forgotten your enemies? Have you forgotten that not everyone here was on your side?"

The words reminded her of how cruel he could be. He had sat back and watched her branded like an animal by the carvings of his aunt. He had sat back and watched as she was cursed over and over. How could he bring up one of the worst moments of her life and throw it back in her face?

Gaining some composure, she raised her chin and looked down his wand. Staring into his eyes, she replied steadily, "I'm not afraid of you. I know you're not as bad as you want to make yourself seem. You think that people don't respect you, and you're right. People don't. You need to earn respect, and not through bullying and intimidation, but by showing them that you've changed.  _You_  get to choose your future."

"Pick the path you want, and for Merlin sake, Malfoy, pick it soon." She swatted at his wand, forcing it out of his hand, and continued, "No one is going to respect a git who raises his wand simply because someone's not scared of you."

She turned around and began walking to the classroom once more. She hoped her words would make a difference. She knew that he was stubborn. Perhaps he would just write off her words as meaningless. Either way, she may have made a promise stay away from him, but there was no way she was going to sit back and watch him self destruct in front of her eyes. Hermione was going to help him no matter what it took. She couldn't let his demons keep him back.

Remembering they had class together, she called over her shoulder, "See you in potions, Malfoy!"

Draco caught up with her in the hallway and entered the room behind her. Although most people were in their seats working on their assignment when they walked in, there were a select few people who looked up with open mouths when they saw Draco standing right behind Hermione. She was rarely late, and to have Draco, also late, walking in at the same time? Well, now that was something to talk about, especially after talking to Blaise in Transfiguration earlier.

Hermione ignored the onlookers, opting to look at one person who she knew would be worried. He wore a grimace, and his face was a bright shade of red. She knew he wouldn't let this pass. After all, he was just trying to watch out for her.

Ron knew it was dangerous for her to be talking to Draco so soon after the spell, but she didn't want him to worry. She gave a small wave and smile, hoping he wouldn't cause a scene, but knew it was futile.

Joining Blaise at the table, they began working on the day's potion. Fortunately for Hermione, there were still only a select few paying attention, and Slughorn was no where to be seen. Ron gave a look of utter distaste, stalked over to her table, and grabbed her arm. Dragging her away from the table, he hissed, " _What are you doing?_ "

"Working on my potion,  _Ron_ ," she replied, jerking her arm out of her grip.

"What are you doing sitting with Malfoy? Hermione, you can't do that!" His eyes never wandered from hers, but her eyes were glued to the blond who was watching them with a clenched jaw and angry eyes.

Ron was angry for a different reason than she suspected Malfoy thought Ron was angry for. She knew Ron's words could have been easily misinterpreted by Malfoy. She wondered if situations like this would stop him from trying to be a good person. After all, if you are constantly treated like the enemy, how can you see yourself as anything but? She didn't want him to feel ashamed. She wanted him to know it was okay to grow as a person.

"Ron, I'm sorry, but this isn't your concern," she hushed, hoping he would take the hint.

"You made a promise. Do you remember that? You  _promised_ , Hermione," he reminded, his concern only growing with her last statement.

"I know I made a promise, but I promised  _that person,_ not you." She wanted him to drop the subject. She wanted to talk about it later if they needed to, but the conversation shouldn't be heard by the entire class.

"Hermione,  _please_ -"

"That's enough, Weasel," Draco ordered, stepping to Hermione's side.

The entire class had cut off all conversation by this point, and were now staring wide-eyed at Malfoy's intervention.

He knew that people would talk. He also knew he didn't care. Hermione's words from earlier hit him hard. He had treated that girl like vermin the entire time they had known each other, and even after a war where he fought on the dark side, she still didn't think she was evil.

Either she was truly the most naive girl he had ever met, or she was right. Maybe it was a bit of both.

Either way, he told his family he was going to attempt to be seen in a better light, and what better way than to befriend- No, he could never be friends with her- What better way than to be on  _decent terms_  with, St. Potter's best friend and heroine of the second wizarding war?

"She's sitting with me," he asserted, putting his arm around her shoulder and steering her back towards their table. Ron's shock had almost made Draco laugh, but as Blaise's eyes narrowed, Draco calmed and quickly withdrew his arm.

Hermione couldn't believe what had just happened. Draco's touch felt nice, safe even, for the brief moment it lasted. Although she wanted to smile, she knew this Draco wasn't the one that loved her, or even liked her for that matter.

Had her words from earlier impacted him? Or had he just wanted to one-up Ron? And why on earth had he touched her? It was all so strange, but with so many ears listening she knew she couldn't breech the subject.

Slughorn returned shortly after the confrontation holding a clip board and hobbled over to Hermione to let her know that all the potions they had worked on were up to standard. He also asked if she could help make burn creams. It wasn't a potion, and it wasn't as simple, but she could do it. The only problem was that she didn't have the time.

She told him as much, but Draco cut in, "We'll help."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She wanted him to choose the right path, but was reluctant about spending so much time with him. She didn't want to get close enough where she was imagining a future with him. She wondered if she could go crazy from merely spending time with him. Simple touches like earlier were enough for her to worry about, but now she had to worry about seeing and working with him regularly. That was what she had to watch out for- false hope. She had to be strong though. She couldn't let her fears stop her from helping. Harry, Ron, and countless others were counting on their help.

Slughorn nodded once, his chin wobbling slightly, and left for his desk to complete his task. She worked without a hitch on her potion and left. Hermione knew that she would have to face Ron eventually, but she'd talk to him later.

She made it halfway down the hall before she heard someone call out for her. "Granger!" Hermione turned around, shocked by the action. She never pictured him as someone who would yell in a hallway to get someone's attention.

Hermione smiled at the effort he put into catching up to her. He stopped mere inches away from Hermione, his shoes making a tiny squeak at the sudden halt, and his breath coming out in short, subtle gasps. He looked down his nose at Hermione, and in a voice that contrasted the earlier call, he asked, "Would you like to join me in the Astronomy tower for dinner?"

She wanted to, there was just one small problem...


	10. Intentions Pt. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted as promised. -Lights

"That's a long way to walk with food," she said carefully, hoping that his next statement wouldn't be what she thought it would.

"We'll just have the house elves bring it up." Blaise shrugged. "They don't have anything better to do." Hermione almost hexed him for saying such an insensitive thing. She was sick of being the only one who cared about magical creatures.  _Does anyone care about them besides me?_

"They have lives outside of serving students and cleaning up after them Blaise," she chastised, putting her hands on her hips. "Why can't we just eat dinner like normal? I quite liked the kitchens."

She missed the point completely. Blaise wasn't sure how you asked someone on a date twice, especially after asking them the first time had somehow insulted them. Instead of asking again, he played along. "Fine. I just wanted to make sure we are having dinner together."

"Sure," Hermione said, giving him an odd look. She wasn't sure what he had meant by that, but she turned and left for Herbology.

_That was an utter failure_ , Blaise thought. She just  _had_  to miss the meaning and focus on that one small detail. He'd never had trouble asking girls out before, but Hermione just  _had_ to be different. He turned around, and saw Draco leaning casually against a wall in a connecting hallway behind him. It was more than annoying that he had witnessed the event, and by the way Draco was smirking, there was no mistaking that he had seen it.

"That went well." Draco chuckled, kicking himself off the wall.

"Hmm." Blaise hummed. He hated when Draco listened to his conversations. Instead of reacting, he turned the attention away from himself. "She reacts interestingly when you're around. Did you know that?" Blaise attempted to read his reaction, but couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was almost sure that Draco wasn't into Hermione, but it never hurt to make sure.

Draco scoffed, "The bossy girl with wild hair that you're so infatuated with?"

Blaise kept his face as still as stone, willing himself not to give his feelings on the matter away. Draco didn't need to know how he felt about her.

Unlike Blaise, Draco hadn't noticed anything off about her. She was still loud mouthed and passionate to the point where he wanted to strangle her. She looked the same as she always had, which is why Draco couldn't figure out what Blaise saw in her. She was still just annoying, plain Jane Granger. He hadn't seen her act oddly, and he was almost positive that the comment was to get him to react... which he wouldn't.

Instead of denial, he responded passively and added an insult for good measure. "She can react in whatever way she wants. I wouldn't touch her with a 50 foot Basilisk."

Draco knew the comment would bother him.  _Soon he will_ \- Draco thought, while Blaise turned on his heal - _just walk away._ Draco smirked and followed. For someone who thought they were in complete control of their every move, his actions were always predictable.

After dinner with Hermione, Blaise offered his arm. Dinner had been nice. It started with a heated disagreement- which they hadn't been able to compromise on- about the treatment of house elves, but ended with the normal conversation and teasing she was used to. They walked to the seventh floor together, arm in arm, to study group.

"I should probably ask for the room this time," he said, letting her hand fall and winking at her.

She moved out of the way, smiling and bowing slightly, giving him the go ahead with her hand.

The thought of coming back to the group should have made her feel anxious, but his nonchalant attitude was soothing, and she couldn't help but giggle. He walked slowly by the room-less wall, but turned on his heal sharply at the end of each march. All the while, grinning and never letting his eyes leave hers. Hermione couldn't help but smile broadly at his flirtations.

When the door appeared and Hermione walked through first, stopping only far enough in to let Blaise through. The room was not what she would have ever expected for a study group. The lighting was dim, with two plush red couches, a coffee table, and a small fireplace. The coffee table had two small cauldrons with only one stirrer, a mallet, and a knife. There were no vials or lab desks, and the corner had a small table which held a bottle of red wine and a bottle of Firewiskey. This had to have been the most relaxed study room she had ever been in.

Hermione knew the room could not create food or drink, so she assumed the beverages were left over from a previous study session. The room's atmosphere was like a force field against any awkward feelings she may have had before. She sat on the couch facing the fireplace, and took out two large, cloth bags and set them on the table in front of the utensils.

Blaise opened the first bag, and grabbed a flower off of the top.

"Moly?" he asked, presenting it to Hermione as if it were a gift. Her nose scrunched at the pungent smell. She grabbed the flower from his hand and threw it back into its bag while Blaise opened the second one.

"Ah, the wonders of Dittany," he said, as Draco walked in with the Ravenclaw behind him.

"Back to normal I see," he said, approving the room.

Noticing the bags on the table, Eileen complained, "Hermione, I thought we told you last time that this is a social gather-"

"Enough," Draco said, glaring at Eileen. "I approved it this time," he added, raising his nose in the air.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't need his approval to do anything. If she wanted to come here every week with a new potion, not even the 'great' Draco Malfoy would stop her.

"What have you prepared for us this time?" he asked, throwing himself backward on the empty couch.

Hermione pulled a cylindrical tube with a red-grey hue that held the last ingredient from her bag along with a stack of small plastic bags.

"Sloth Brains?" Eileen inquired.

Hermione was excited they knew all the ingredients and without asking her for help!

"Do you know what we're making?" she asked Eileen, who shook her head. She looked at Blaise who also shook his head. Lastly she looked at Draco. "Dittany, Moly, and Sloth Brains. Simple, we're making Burn-Healing paste," he informed in a bored tone.

"Do you know how to form it, Malfoy?" Hermione challenged.

Draco snorted. "Do I know how to form it," he mocked. Snatching the Moly and mallet from the table, he began crushing the flower until it was a powder. Hermione watched intently, making sure it was made properly.

He asked her for one of the plastic bags, which she offered willingly. After he snatched it from her hand, he went to add the Dittany. "You're doing it wrong," she interrupted in a singsong voice, peeved from how rudely he had taken the bag from her.

Draco glared at her but waited for her to continue, knowing she was right. He hadn't been sure about the order in which the ingredients went, but he wasn't going to tell her that if he could have gotten away with it.

"You add the Dittany last. If you put it in before the brains, it will weaken it and make it almost useless," she said, wanting him to know why it wouldn't work. At her wordy response, he rolled her eyes. Draco found it incredibly irritating that she always deemed it necessary to add more information than required. It would have been enough if she had just told him how to do it, but Hermione just  _had_  to add a bunch of extra nonsense.

Huffing, he grabbed the sloth brains and began mashing it with his hands. It wasn't incorrect, but when Eileen and Blaise both turned to her with horrified eyes she couldn't help but burst into laughter. After straightening up, she wiped the tears on her sleeve and reached into her bag, handing him a pair of gloves.

His face was a barely-tinted red, probably the most colour she'd ever seen on it. He looked down at his hands that were now caked in a thick red mixture of brains and powder. He was only trying to prove that he knew how to make it, but she had somehow made him so mad that he forget to ask for gloves. Merlin,that bloody woman made him look like an idiot.

He threw his hands in front of her, making Hermione gag at the smell. "Care to clean me off, Granger?"

She completed a quick Scourgify on his hands. The salve wouldn't lose its horrendous smell until they added the Dittany, and even then it still smelled, just not enough to induce vomit. She quickly wrote down the instructions for everyone, and gave them each a pair of gloves, so there would be no more mishaps.

After using almost all of the ingredients, they all gave up. It went by much faster than the potions Blaise had helped her with. Having two extra people really sped up the process. It also helped that she knew there were only four people so she could plan accordingly.

Hermione was now sipping on a glass of red wine, while Blaise, Eileen, and Draco all chose Firewiskey. "I think I'll be heading back to my dormitory now," Eileen said, looking hopefully at Draco.

"And I'll be finishing my drink," he said, lifting his glass to emphasize his point.

Eileen looked around the room, and gave a brittle smile, hoping no one had been paying close attention to the snub. Blaise downed his whiskey and stood from his spot on the floor. "I'll walk you back," he said.

Blaise leaned over Draco and said something Hermione couldn't hear, before walking out the door Eileen was holding him. Whatever Blaise said, it had obviously annoyed Draco, because his grip tightened around his glass and his eyes shifted away as if he was being scolded.

The door closed silently, and Hermione wondered if she should also leave.

She wanted to stay, but she shouldn't be spending time alone with him. He seemed to be in a foul mood, but it would probably be a bad idea to stay even if that weren't the case.

Instead, she stayed glued to her spot in front of the table on the floor. She wondered why he hadn't walked Eileen back to her room. She also wondered what could possess him to willingly stay in same room alone with Hermione, but she quickly thought about how stupid it was to assume she was even part of the equation; He already said that he wanted to finish his whiskey.

"You're spending an awful lot of time with Blaise," Draco said, interrupting her thoughts. The lighting formed dark shadows underneath his eyes, making him look menacing, as if he would know what she was thinking by simply looking at her. Well, he would just have to get used to being disappointed, because Hermione was not going to allow him to intimidate her.

Without reacting, she kept her eyes on his and said, "If you can recall, you refused to help with the potions, so we were forced to spend a lot time toge-"

"I don't think so," he interjected, not allowing her to give him that excuse. "You had dinner with him tonight, and I know you weren't working on potions." He put the glass on the table and leaned back in his seat, giving her that smug look she hated.

"Unlike some people," she argued, sitting up straighter, "he wants to help the people who need it."

Draco laughed a short, humorless laugh. "Oh really? How sweet of him."

"Don't mock him for being a better person than y-"

"Blaise doesn't do anything that isn't self serving," he growled. "You'd best to remember that, Granger. The world isn't full of helpful Hufflepuffs. He asked Eileen to invite you here because he wants to  _fuck_  you," he said, emphasizing ' _fuck_ ' with a sneer.

She was taken back, not because of what he had said, but how he had said it. She suspected that Blaise had been the one that wanted her to join. However, what bothered Hermione was the sickly sweet smile Draco was wearing for being the one to deliver the news. Hermione felt ill from Malfoy's pleasure for being the one to tell her something that was obviously intended to make her feel bad.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, set her wine on the table, and attempted to sound just as rude as him. "Was that an attempt to hurt me?" She laughed. "You're just confirming what I already suspected. If he fancies me, that's his business. He's nice, smart, and sincere. What about you, Malfoy? Do you think you have any of those traits? This is the second time in a row that you've left Eileen to walk back to her room alone. And both times Blaise had to step-"

"She's not my responsibility," Draco growled. "If she wants to walk back, she can do it-"

"She likes you!" Hermione burst out. "She doesn't want to walk back alone, you git. She wants you to go with her, or at least act as if you give a damn!" she hollered. She blamed her out burst on Draco. If he hadn't been so bloody happy at trying to see her to be miserable, then none of this would have happened.

"Shut the fuck up, Granger," he warned, balling his fists and leaning forward.

Hermione lifted her chin, refusing to feel threatened. The way he was acting towards people was going to ensure a friendless life. She didn't want him to go through what he had in the future, but she also knew she shouldn't let him know he cared. So she settled somewhere in the middle, a friendly warning. Calming her voice, she advised, "If you continue to treat people the way you do, you will find it's a very lonely life without friends."

"I don't need anyone at this idiotic school," he said, grabbing his drink and taking a large swig before leaning back into his chair. He could feel his anger dissipating as the alcohol set in. His brain was starting to get a tad fuzzy, but he wanted to finish the conversation before he forgot what they were talking about. "Good riddance to anyone who thinks that I need them."

Hermione shook her head, knowing that her words would fall on deaf ears, but wanting to get her point across. "Malfoy, you are the only family that hasn't spoken to the news about your remorse. Sooner or later, you're going to need a good support system. No one's going to accept money as an apology for what you did in the war. Eventually, you're going to need the people you're carelessly disregarding."

"How do you know about our donations?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. So far, none of the papers had written a single article about it. It seemed as if no one cared that they were shelling out buckets of Galleons to numerous organizations, so how did she know?

Hermione looked at the armrest on the couch where he was resting the glass within his grip. Trying to think of a lie, she said the first thing that came to mind. "Through the grapevine." That could possibly be the most plausible, yet vaguest lie she ever told.

Draco's lips quirked up in the corners. He was hoping that people would start to take notice of his family's donations soon. He was glad that even if the papers didn't cover their charity, word of mouth would work just as well.

Hermione was surprised at how well her lie had gone over.  _At least I can lie to this Draco._  Sure, she might not be a good liar, but Draco didn't know her that well, so she could get away with it. Plus, he had seemed happy at her response, so it wasn't such a terrible lie.

When silence fell upon them, Hermione wondered if she should leave. She didn't think her intentions were anything but friendly, but there was always the chance she was here for subconscious reasons. Why did things have to be so complicated? If she had never tried the spell in the first place she wouldn't be so worried about leaving Malfoy's company. Although, she probably wouldn't even be sitting in the same room as him if it weren't for the spell.

Hermione decided to leave. She needed to meet Harry and Ron before they left anyways. She gave Draco her goodbye, needlessly explaining her reasoning for leaving.

"I'll walk you there." He stood, but noticed the action had put him much to close to Hermione. However she didn't seem disturbed, and he didn't feel inclined to move. He thought it was odd that she didn't take a step back. It made him think of Blaise's comment earlier. This was definitely something that Draco thought could be classified as 'acting interestingly'. Even if she wasn't exactly doing anything, not moving was strange in and of itself.

Draco was looking at her queerly, as if she were a puzzle to figure out. Hermione wondered what had caused him to look that way but didn't bother asking. She needed to see her friends before they left. Getting there before they left for good was all that mattered.

While on the way there, he asked why they were leaving school. She relayed the information to him. After all, she doubted Harry could drop out of school without people finding out his reasoning. Although Hermione thought Draco would be indifferent, he actually seemed worried. It was odd that Malfoy cared at all, but to actually get a reaction from him was very strange indeed.

They began descending the staircase from the seventh floor hurriedly. Their wands held in front of them, illuminating light on their surroundings, for it was almost midnight and would be impossible to see without them. The portraits on the walls would either groan or yell when they passed, but Hermione paid them no mind, because at the top of the staircase, Draco had breached a subject she was hoping to avoid.

"So you promised someone you'd stay away from me, huh?" he asked, trying to seem casual about it, but still making sure that it was interpreted as a question.

Hermione was surprised he hadn't mocked her for it. After all, promising to stay away from someone usually indicates some extent of fear towards the person. It also would mean that the person is either a problem or dangerous. She decided he was both to her- he was her very own dangerous problem she couldn't seem to stay away from. Instead of ignoring him, which would have definitely been the simpler option, she decided to sate his curiosity with a somewhat-truth.

"I promised someone I hold very dear to me that I would stay away from you. He didn't like the idea of me talking to you. He- Well, he thought you were a danger to me."  _Probably because you are._

She glanced at Draco who was holding his wand towards the lower floors in order to watch the direction the staircases were moving.

She almost thought he hadn't heard her, but his entire body was tense and held the darkest look she'd ever seen from him, his eyes almost black. She hadn't expected that reaction. Annoyance, perhaps, but anger? No, she definitely hadn't expected that. He usually did well to cover his emotions, but not this time. When she determined he wouldn't be commenting on her response, she commented in hopes that he would give insight. "You look upset."

He didn't want to tell her that it made his blood boil to think that people were making promises to avoid him, and even more so her. He wanted respect, not for people to avoid him. What if that's why people barely talked to him anymore? Were people making promises to stay away from him? Even people from his house were treating him as a leper lately, save Blaise. Only a handful of people talked to him this year at all.

He really hated this school.

And he really hated whoever Granger promised. He didn't know why he was so bothered that Granger had vowed to keep away from him, but it did. Maybe it was because he was trying to be seen in a better light with the Muggle-born community. Maybe it was because she was the one person who had the gall to stand up to him since the war, or perhaps because she was the only one who seemed to notice that he has been on a downward spiral these past few months. Whatever the reasoning, he wasn't going to tell her.

Instead, they walked in silence until they stopped short at the end of the hall, right before entering the room. They were still a good deal away from all the commotion, and no one seemed to notice their appearance. There were already a handful of people crowded around the exit. The older weasel was laughing with the professors who had their back towards them, and a semiprivate moment was shared between the Weaslet who was crying into the shirt of the Boy Who Lived. It was everything he hated about them.

He hated how close they all were. He hated that they could express their emotions so clear for everyone to see and not have to worry about ridicule. It made him sick.

Hermione looked at Draco, who was looking at the room with utmost distaste. Hermione wondered if he could ever have the same relationship with them as he had in the future. She knew he didn't know that they had all been friends in the future. He'd laughed at old times with them just as Ron was doing. He'd consoled Hermione just as Harry was consoling Ginny. By the look on his face however, she had a feeling that he's never had these kinds of relationships in his life, and she felt so very sorry for him.

When Ron looked beyond the group of professors he was entertaining, his face fell and morphed into a red that was almost the shade of his hair. Draco almost laughed at his reaction. Almost, only because when he turned to leave Hermione looked as white as a the Bloody Baron.

Whatever promise she had made, she was with him now, and there was nothing the red-head could do about it. If she was scared about Weasley yelling at her for being with him again, he would give him an actual reason to yell. He heard him make a quick excuse to leave the group, but before he could reach them, Draco decided to give Weasley a parting gift.

Draco put his hand on Hermione's shoulder, guiding her in front of him, before he leaning down and whispering goodnight. Grabbing both her hands, he moved from her ear to her cheek and placed a barely-there kiss.

Lingering only for a moment, he leaned back, looking at her for the first time he'd ever truly looked at her. She had freckles strewn about her nose and cheekbones. Her eyes were a deep chocolate colour with full, long lashes. He'd definitely seen prettier women in his life, but there was still something very alluring about the way she opened her mouth slightly, as if she were inviting him for more.

The thought was preposterous. Crazy even. 'Granger' and 'alluring' shouldn't even belong in the same sentence. Dropping her hands, he walked away as quickly as possible. The lanky Gryffindor had almost made it to them, and he didn't want to stick around for that part. He was almost down the hall before he heard yelling, but his thoughts were on something else entirely. All he could think about was Granger's silent invitation, and trying to think of a plausible reason for it.

Hermione's heart was beating double time.  _What had just happened?_  He kissed her. Albeit, on the cheek, but she didn't think they were friendly enough to warrant a kiss.

Oh, how she wanted it though. When he had whispered in her ear, she felt as though her knees were going to buckle, but when he kissed her? She felt as if she were floating on air. She couldn't even form the words to say goodbye. The proximity itself had her brain completely blank on how to form words.

However the Draco induced mush-brain only lasted a moment longer before Ron burst out, "Hermione, please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing!"

Hermione stared emptily at Ron. "I've been extra careful not to give anything away, yet he still kissed me. He walked me here, and then he kissed me," she mumbled, mostly to herself. "Ron, do you think this means something?"

She looked up at her friend hopefully. She couldn't help but think this meant something. Maybe this meant that she still had a chance of happiness with him. He had been so angry earlier, and still, he walked her here and then... Before she could reach another conclusion, Ron wrapped his arms around her and gave a bone-crushing hug.

"Mione, for both of our sake, please stay away from him." He let her go and grabbed both her shoulders, his face showing the most concern she had seen from him since, oddly enough, they were trapped at Malfoy Manor.

"I don't know what just happened, but your reaction  _proves_  that just being near him is dangerous," he said, letting go of her shoulders. "I won't be here to remind you anymore, and I can't keep you away from him, but you need to do it for yourself. You  _have_  to do that for yourself."

Hermione nodded her head solemnly. She knew she wasn't going to stay away from him. She was far past being able to do that, but she would remain calm about the situation. She would just continue on as if nothing happened.

When Harry walked over, he took one look between the two. Sensing tension, he asked what was wrong. Harry hadn't seen the kiss, or even Draco, so he didn't have a clue as to why they looked so upset. Hermione still hadn't told him about what had transpired during the Procul Futurae spell. She just didn't want anyone but her and Ron to know for now, but she also knew she wouldn't be able to get away with lying to Harry.

Much to Hermione's surprise, Ron saved her the trouble. "I'm just worried for her is all."

Harry smiled and began taking something from his bag. "Why you two decided to stop dating is beyond me," he said without much interest. Hermione and Ron both looked at each other guiltily for not telling him the whole truth of their break up. Harry took two items from his bag that she instantly recognized.

He looked at them fondly before confirming Hermione's prediction as to why he wanted her to have them. "In case we need you to do some research," he said, looking over his shoulder to make sure the Professors weren't listening. "You know, research in the part of library that you can't get to." Harry knew that Aurors were able to get their hands on any book they required, but he also knew no one could research better than Hermione.

Hermione took the map and the cloak. Promising to take care of them, and to help them however she could. She gave Harry a quick hug, told them both to be safe, and left.

Hermione was never good at goodbyes.


	11. Fire

After a night of practically no sleep, she reasoned that Draco's actions may have been over-friendly for the circumstances, but it wasn't substantial enough evidence to discern his intentions.

Harry had owled her the next day to do research in the library, which she was sure Ron had asked him to- so she didn't have much time to talk to Draco about the kiss the following days.

Which led them to their current situation.

They were acquaintances, in a very general sense of the word, but too much time had passed to talk about the incident.

The days after were spent with Blaise during meals and in between classes, study group two times a week, and the Gryffindor common room or library. Blaise and her had grown quite close, spending most of her free time with him. Most people assumed Hermione and Blaise were together, but anyone that knew them knew the truth: She wasn't ready to date.

Not yet, at least. Blaise blamed it on the recent breakup with Ron, but the truth was much worse. She was still mulling over her three days spent with Malfoy, and more recently, the kiss.

All the past weeks led her to where she was today, spending her Saturday in Hogsmeade with her newly found friends. Blaise had become her solace in a Hogwarts without her two best friends. And Draco- well, he was there because he had nothing better to do.

Eileen was with a few unfamiliar Ravenclaws, narrowing her eyes at the group of three before entering Honeydukes. Hermione hadn't seen her at study group for the past few weeks and knew it was due to Draco's less than courtly attitude towards her. Hermione thought it was for the best, Eileen seemed like the kind of girl who knew what she wanted in a relationship, and Draco wasn't it.

"My mother needs to meet me her," Blaise said. He announced it to the both of them, but the words were meant for Draco. "Watch out for each other. I'll see you later." There was something ominous about his words. There were many hushed conversations throughout the last few weeks, but anytime she asked about the whispers they would change the subject. This time was no different, and he left almost as soon as she asked.

Which left her alone with Draco.

They hadn't been alone since he walked her to the front doors of Hogwarts, and Hermione wasn't sure if he was going to listen to Blaise and stay with her, or if he wanted to go separate ways.

"I'm not going to stand here and watch you stare at your feet all afternoon." Draco wasn't particularly looking forward to the day, but there was no way he was going to stay at Hogwarts with nothing to do. Now, he was stuck with Hermione with nothing to do. Which wasn't much better.

They began walking and Hermione instantly knew where they were headed. Once they reached the quieter streets, she noticed the homes were nearly all unchanged.

"So have the Aurors made any revelations about the attacks?" Draco asked.

"Not that I know of," she answered, sparing him a glance before focusing in on the large house they were approaching.

"Do they know if they're connected or not?"

Once they were close enough to see the house better, she felt a twinge sadness. As she took in the house, she noticed it was not the beautiful home it was in the future, but rather something one may see in a horror film.

"Actually Malfoy, come with me," Hermione said, nodding at the house in front of them. "There may be something in there." She knew there wouldn't be anything important in the house, but she wanted to see how the house looked on the inside during present day. Nearly half the shingles were missing from the roof, and the stone on the house was two shades darker from the grime that covered it. She worried what the inside would look like.

Her curiosity took over, and Malfoy was coming with her. Hermione walked down the path to the double doors and used her wand to set an alert alarm inside. After a few minutes without answer, Hermione figured they could enter.

"Why would there be anything in this house?" he asked, looking at the house skeptically.

There wasn't anything spectacular about the house. What little grass there was, was overgrown, and the house's gutters were falling off the side of the house.

For Draco, the fact that there were no wards around the house was enough proof that there was no dark activity inside the house. But he didn't want to be alone today, so he followed along.

She unlocked the door with Alohomora, entering the stale air. Flakes of dust were floating around, limiting natural light and a thick layer of untouched dust on the furniture.

"Where should we look first?" Draco asked while swiping a nearby table with his index finger.

As he wiped the filth on his trousers, Hermione answered, "We'll look at this room, work through the dining room and kitchen, then up the stairs to the study and bedrooms."

"You act as if you've been here before," he scoffed, looking around the room with distaste.

Draco's comment made Hermione think about rebelling against her curiosity- a small voice in the back of her head was telling her to exit the house now. She didn't have any business being here, and Draco was being led to believe they were there to work. However, she reasoned that she wasn't hurting anyone, and it was natural to want to explore a place that held a small part in her heart.

"What do you think?" Hermione inquired, waving her hand around the room and changing the subject.

"This house... seems like a waste of time," he said, trailing off at the end of his sentence, transfixed on a chain dangling on the coat rack next to the door. Reaching for the golden object, he continued, "Such an odd place." Hermione hadn't thought anything of the object, but watched as he reached for it.

Once his hand touched the chain his eyes glazed over. His entire body tensed, the golden chain scratching under the tight grip of his hand.

Hermione jumped towards him. Fearing the object was cursed, she used her wand to throw the chain across the room. She placed her hands on his, looking for burns, but found no trace of any harm. Frantically, she placed her hands on each side of his face trying to gauge a reaction.

Nothing.

His body began shaking from the strain of the taut muscles, and she knew he needed help… and fast. Hermione left the room for the kitchen, scrambled through their potions cabinet, pleading that she would find an antidote to fix paralysis. After toppling over each vial in the cabinet, she conceded.

Hermione began cursing herself for bringing him here without warning him not to touch anything. He shouldn't have been here in the first place, Hermione's mind screamed as she wondered what could have possibly possessed Draco to touch the chain. Draco should have known if the object contained dark magic. He had grown up around it his entire life. He'd even used cursed objects against students at Hogwarts in the war.  _How could he not know_?

She needed to leave in order to examine the golden chain, but she couldn't leave Draco alone. She levitated it into a container where it clinked into the bottom with no hint of ill intentions. Hermione couldn't feel any dark magic, but she couldn't risk touching it without someone knowing where they were. And considering she had just broken into an abandoned house, there was little chance of being found if she followed Malfoy's fate.

While contemplating her options on how to get help, she heard a voice whisper her name. She turned to see Draco staring at his hand with his eyebrows knitted together.

Elated at his recovery, she threw her arms around him. Relief flooded her veins from the comfort of his awakening, but the hug only lasted a moment before Draco gently shifted away from her. Knowing that the proximity probably made him uncomfortable, Hermione dropped her arms to her sides. "How could you have been so reckless? How could you touch something without making sure it wasn't curse-"

"It wasn't cursed," Draco snapped. "I've been around dark objects my entire life. I think I'd know one if I saw one."

Unfocusing from their conversation, he began wandering the room. "Different layout… Piano…" He muttered as Hermione's eyes were following his exploration. Spinning around to where Hermione stood, he looked her up and down. "but older…? Granger, have we been here before?"

Hermione wasn't sure how to answer the question. They  _had_  been there before, just in a different life, but that Draco was gone.

In his place, is the Draco that hadn't even glanced at the house until today.

She decided to give him a semi-honest answer and shook her head. "No, you've never been here."

"Can the chain predict the future?" he asked, shaking his head as if it were hurting him.

Hermione became nervous as his question. Anything involving the future couldn't be good, and his reaction to seeing it was more concerning than the question itself. "What did you see?"

Draco pointed to the vacant corner of the room where the piano once sat. "We were playing piano…. and we were looking around at, well, this is the strangest part, we were looking at pictures at us. Pictures of us that we don't have. We were both older, and I think we were… involved." Draco hesitated a moment. "Hermione, do you think that chain can see the future?" he asked again.

She knew it couldn't tell the future, because she had already experienced that memory. She couldn't tell him that though. Draco didn't realize there was a more important question- how did he see that memory?

Hermione's thoughts were cut short by screams outside and the floor moving beneath her feet. Draco and Hermione simultaneously raised their wands and ran out the door. The streets were covered in people running and looking over their shoulders.

Hermione and Draco followed the looks towards the black smoke that was billowing over the town center, and directly over the town was the outline of a large beast breathing fire over the shops.

"Draco, that's a dragon," Hermione stated, her jaw slack and her knees buckling. They both stood, frozen in place.

A loud screech pierced their ears as the dragon's wing took off the roof of a shop, causing them to stumble as the ground shook once more. Seeing the dragon's force was enough to shake Draco's trance.

"We need to go," he urged grabbing her hand, dragging her from the door frame and away from Hogsmeade.

Hermione could taste the smoke in her mouth as they began running. The screams of trapped people in the city was background noise to their labored breathing. The further they ran, the more the pleas of the helpless crept into her conscience.

She couldn't run.

She couldn't leave her classmates behind. She needed to fight. She just couldn't find her courage, but then she remembered her new-found friendship.

_Blaise._

The name had Hermione stop on the spot. She  _couldn't_  leave him.

The conflict of Draco's run and Hermione's stop had her flying forward just as the tendons felt like they were going to tear. Their grasp came undone, and she fell forward onto the asphalt, leaving her with fresh scrapes from the fall.

Draco frantically grabbed Hermione, trying to pull her up. Dodging his hands, she stood.

"Blaise!" Hermione cried. "Draco, Blaise is still in Hogsmeade! We have to go!"

Draco couldn't believe that she was running back towards trouble. There was no way that they could save Blaise if there were  _dragons_  blocking the way. The plan was dangerous and reckless. They had to watch out for each other. He wasn't going to let her do it. She couldn't go back. Draco ran after her, but the streets became more dense the closer they ran towards the caos.

The crowd made it nearly impossible to see her.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco yelled, when he finally got a clear shot.

Hermione's wand flew to him. He reached up and caught it just as it was flying over his head, and looked back at Hermione with large eyes. He knew she would hex him for this, but he had to stop her. He could only protect her if she  _left_ with him, and if he had to take her wand in order for her to leave, than he would.

Hermione turned to see who had taken her wand and caught sight of the blond Slytherin grasping the vine wood in midair- In the hands of someone she thought she could trust.

Draco had taken her wand, now making his way towards her through the crowd. There was only one explanation for his betrayal; Draco was with the rebels.

Hermione's heart dropped. She thought they had been making progress, but he took her wand in the most dangerous of circumstances, and that was evidence enough. He would reach her in seconds, but she wouldn't stick for whatever he had planned.

Hermione began running once more. If Draco was trying to kill her, she would so everything in her power to make sure Blaise was safe.

Hermione's foot caught, and she fell for the second time, scraping the palms of her hands and deepening the cuts on her knees. She moved to get up, but from the corner of her eye she saw a witch lying on the ground whimpering in pain. The entirety of the witch's left arm was burnt and there were black footprints covering her clothes from people stepping on her.

The witch looked to Hermione for help. Moving as fast as possible, she grabbed the woman's wand and casted an hour long protection spell. Hopefully, Hermione thought, it will be enough to at least not get trampled on. She dropped the wand onto the woman, and returned to her task.

A spell flew past her, barely missing her leg, and when she looked over her shoulder she saw Draco throwing spells at her. The castings were sloppy because he was running, and many of the people surrounding her were being hit with the missing spells. A witch to her right was hit with a spell directly in her chest and dropped ungracefully onto the ground.

He was trying to stun her.

She knew she needed to run faster to avoid his attacks, but her legs were burning and the smoke was beginning to consume her lungs. Each step she took forced her to cough- her body's futile attempt to have clean air.

She entered the city with a leap over a row of fire. As soon as she passed the first shop, she realized that getting to Blaise would be much more difficult than she had anticipated, but the challenge wouldn't deter her.

The teachers were running in and out of shops, casting detection charms to find trapped students and shoppers. Their faces were covered in air bubbles. She knew that having her wand was a necessity if she wanted to survive, but she couldn't get her wand back when the one who had her wand was trying to take her down.

Hermione looked over the crowd, quickly spotting Blaise. His wand was out and he began chasing a person down an alleyway and out of town. She knew he would be safe as soon as he got out, but she needed to make sure he made it out.

Hermione began pushing through the crowd, but a hand grabbed her shirt and pulled her back before she could make it halfway across the street. Hermione spun around, hitting her chin on the tip of Draco's wand.

Before she could scream for help, he cast a spell and flew backwards into two unsuspecting girls with faces caked in black smoke. The girls recovered and without a backwards glance, resumed their running.

Once Hermione saw that Draco was unresponsive, she turned to see who had saved her, and spotted Luna leading two third year Ravenclaws to safety. Hermione ran to take her wand back, but slowed when she realized that she was no longer breathing in smoke. Raising her hand to her face, she realized what spell Draco had cast- She had an air bubble covering her face.

He was protecting her.

Whatever the reasoning for Draco taking her wand, Draco had protected her, and now she had to save him.

Draco was slumped next to a building engulfed in flames. Sections of the second floor were beginning to fall, warning Hermione of the danger they were in. She needed to get him as far away from the building as possible before the entire building collapsed, which she estimated to be in a few minutes time.

Dipping next to his body, she grabbed her wand and cast an easy breathing spell on him. She grabbed arm to attempt escape, but was thwarted by an anti-apparation spell. Hermione knew that would be the case, but she had to try something.

She heard a dragon cry, but couldn't find it's location. She could no longer see further than a few paces away now. She needed to get him out of the town completely, and there were few options left.

Levitating him would be a difficult feat, and probably too slow to help, but it was the only simple option left. Standing straight, she lifted his form and began walking along side his floating body.

Two steps was all it took before a student slammed into her, breaking her concentration, and throwing Draco to the ground. The cost of the fall for him wasn't worth the small distance it got him, and now she knew there was only one way left: The Muggle way.

Hermione began dragging his unresponsive body, but after each pull it felt like there was additional weight being added. Her muscles felt as if they were being torn from the bone. And after she couldn't go any further, she realized that she stopped only a few yards from where she had begun. She pulled at his arms in vain but could no longer drag the dead weight.

Hermione needed help, but her cries were lost in the sea of screams. She started grabbing the people running past, but when their eyes saw the man she was trying to save, they continued on their run out of the city.

There was nothing she could do to get him out safely. She had led him here. He was trying to run to safety, and he followed her to danger. Now he was facing the possibility of death if she couldn't get him out. No one would come to their aid. They didn't like him. Hermione couldn't believe the hatred that consumed these people.

They were leaving him to die.

No, they were leaving  _them_  to die.

Hermione dropped next to Draco. Her tears were beginning to fall, and she began sobbing, begging him to wake up, but he remained still. She needed him to wake up, but she couldn't leave him alone. She wouldn't leave him again. She owed him her protection, as he had given her. She was paying the price for abandoning him the first time. Now she had to protect him from the rebels as long as she could.

Stepping over the unconscious blond, she kept her wand in front of her, preparing for attackers. She could no longer hear the dragon, but there was a strong possibility of rebels on foot.

She paid no mind to the people running from the town. She ignored the seething looks from the people's recognition of who she was guarding. She blocked out the angry shouts for helping a Death Eater instead of an innocent. She had to stay focused on watching for threats to their safety.

After a few minutes, the building she dragged him away from collapsed completely trapping an elderly man. Hermione wondered if one of the people running by would attack Draco if she left him. She couldn't stand by while he was trapped, but she couldn't leave Draco unprotected. Before she could decide what to do, a lone witch was at his side, uncovering him from the rubble and helping him away.

As kind as the act was, it stirred something inside of her. Draco's life was worthless to the wizarding world. Hermione hated feeling bitter about the rescue, but knew that this is how Draco would be treated for many years to come. As much as future Hermione attempted to get him back to good graces, she had failed. Hermione knew the same would happen to her. They wouldn't accept him, and they wouldn't accept anyone who helped him.

Hermione saw a black cloak running towards her. On guard, she took a step forward, blocking Draco from sight and harm. As soon as the person got close enough however, Hermione knew they were safe.

Without question, Mcgonagall raised her wand. "Miss Granger, block anyone who comes near Mister Malfoy or myself," she said, levitating Draco as Hermione cleared a path. After they reached the border of the anti-apparition wards, the Headmaster grabbed them and apparated them to the hospital wing of Hogwarts, back to safety.

Mcgonagall disappeared as soon as she had arrived. There were pained moans coming from each cot, and Hermione knew they didn't have room for Draco. Each bed was taken and he wasn't injured as extensively as the other students in the wing.

After placing him on a transfigured makeshift cot, she took off his shirt gently. She knew it would be considered inappropriate to do so without a medical license, but she needed to see the extent of his wounds.

There was a small burn on his upper right torso, and scrapes along his arms and back where the concrete had torn through his shirt. She quickly healed the scrapes and ran to the back room to get the burn paste.

She applied the salve to his chest, and sat down next to him. His hair was caked in blood and Hermione became worried. Head wounds were tricky. Sometimes they were more severe and needed more attention than a simple spell, but if one were to use a simple spell on a severe head wound, the results could be dangerous.

Madam Pomfrey bustled to them and evaporated the hair surrounding the wound. She touched his forehead with her wand and calling out while walking to the next patient. "Essence of Dittany, Miss Granger!"

Hermione wasted no time going to the back room for supplies and pouring the solution over the head wound. She sat until the wound cleared and healed, waiting only until then to leave his side.

There was nothing left to do for him but sit and wait, so she began following Madam Pomfrey in order to help her. She needed to keep busy.

The nurse knew she was there to help, and help she did.


	12. Prison

It was nearly night time before students were either transferred to the Bronze Goblet Hospital in Northern Scotland or returned to their dormitories.

The burn paste they made during study group helped the school's supply, but there were just too many students for one mediwitch to take care of.

Hermione was owled a little before midnight that the Dragon had left before the Aurors could arrive, but they had made an arrest. Harry and Ron also let Hermione know that they would be taking reports from students the next day at Hogwarts and wanted to see her when they were done.

There was little to be done for Draco, but Madam Pomfrey let Hermione stay in the ward regardless. She hadn't explicitly told her that she could stay, but she hadn't kicked her out either.

So, she sat on the chair next to Draco's cot so she would be there when he woke.

Hermione awoke at around seven to raised voices and two new arrivals. Hermione sat up, and all three Malfoy's cut their conversation, the elder two looking at her angrily and Draco blankly.

Narcissa didn't waste time asking what everyone else was wondering. "Why are you sleeping next to my son?" she asked, her voice calm, but there was no mistaking the act angered the woman.

Hermione didn't have a good answer. There was no doubt that he would make a full recovery, and no one else had guests on their bedsides. She wasn't staff, family, or even close friend. She wasn't sure how to explain her position. "I'll just be going then," Hermione said, taking her leave.

"Answer my question," Narcissa told Hermione, eyeing her burnt clothes and disheveled hair.

Hermione wanted to disobey in spite. This woman had been incredibly rude last time she had seen her. Granted, that was eight years into the future.

Hermione sighed. She decided that she would tell Draco what happened, then leave. She didn't owe Narcissa an explanation.

"When you were running from me yesterday I thought you may have been with the rebels," Hermione started, and Draco's face turned angry at the distrust. He thought it was awfully hypocritical that she would distrust him so easily. Hadn't  _she_  been the one to say that he wasn't as bad of a person as everyone thought? She was just as distrustful as the others. He didn't need to hear any more, but she continued her story.

"As soon as I realized that you were trying to stop me from doing something stupid-" Draco scoffed, but Hermione ignored the noise. "I tried to keep you safe. You were hit with a stunner, and no one would help me get you out. It wasn't until Mcgonagall arrived that we could get you out. After that, I healed your wounds, and waited for you to wake up."

"Why?" Lucius asked, seemingly intrigued.

"He's my friend. I couldn't leave him, yesterday or last night," she answered. Addressing Draco, she added, "I needed to make sure you were okay."

He was still angry at her faithlessness in him. Lifting his hand to cover his face he mumbled, "Just go, Granger."

The dismissal hurt. He didn't seem to care that she was trying to make amends. Her eyes became watery, and she knew she would have to leave before anyone saw her actually cry. She refused to look at the older Malfoy's as she took her leave. She didn't care to see their reactions to the command.

She made it out of the hospital wing before she heard Narcissa calling her name. Turning around, Hermione waited for her to catch up.

"Are you truly Draco's friend?"

Hermione was surprised by the question Not quite, but nodded, wondering where the conversation was going.

"He needs protection right now. Tonight, he's leaving school and coming home until he takes the NEWTS in the spring, but I fear it will not be enough. You claim you are his friend. Right now, he needs your protection, whether he is willing to admit it or not. You have many people who will help you if you are in danger, and Draco doesn't have that. If you were to come to the Manor, those people would be forced to help Draco if you are there," she said, inclining her head to see if Hermione would deny her friendship to him now.

It sounded like a great plan, minus one large detail she seemed to miss. "Mrs. Malfoy, I'm sorry, but you must have missed the part where I mentioned that when Draco was unconscious, even with my begging, people refused to help."

She looked past Narcissa to where Lucius was standing, watching her through narrowed eyes. Hermione continued, "People won't help him, even if I'm there."

"You are friends with two well respected Aurors. Two Aurors to which your safety a top priority, and if you are with us… well, that would also make us a top priority, wouldn't it?"

Hermione nodded slowly, knowing Harry and Ron would protect her if she needed it. She wanted to help, but she didn't understand why Draco needed to go home.

"Why does Draco need protecting?"

"That's not exactly important for you to know right now," Narcissa replied. "Do we have a deal?"

"What about my studies?"

"We will have a private tutor for both you and my son. I'll have a port key arranged for midnight, you have until then to decide. Just remember, if you are to choose to stay here and refuse to protect Draco, he will be the first to question your… friendship."

Narcissa knew that the girl liked her son, but had no idea if Draco returned the sentiment. It didn't matter however, because she knew the girl would leave for the manor at midnight, and her presence would give them protection. If she had to use her feelings to get her to the manor, so be it.

She was pleasantly surprised that Hermione had protected her son during the attack. She didn't like the girl, but that bit of information meant that she didn't hate her either.

Hermione watched the older witch leave with her husband. She didn't want to leave Hogwarts, but if Draco needed her, she couldn't leave him alone.

Hermione was making her way to the library to research the mysterious chain when she ran into Harry and Ron. Before she even had the opportunity to ask, they were offering their assistance in the library, but Hermione knew that only meant they would be sitting close by as she searched the isles.

They were almost to the top of the steps when they began asking questions about Hogsmeade, she figured they would be doing their jobs, but it concerned her when all the questions became about only Draco and Blaise.

"About what time do you think Blaise left you and Draco?" Harry asked, following his quill following close behind.

"He left almost as soon as we all arrived," she replied, eyeing Harry. "What's this all about?"

Ron and Harry exchanged worried looks, but it was Ron who spoke up. "We're not exactly supposed to speak about this with non-officials-

"Ron I have answered all-"

Ron's face tinted red. "Oi, calm down! I was just going to say as long as you won't talk about this with anyone else, we'll tell you."

Hermione knew her outburst was uncalled for. She should have known they would tell her, but she also knew that any information pertaining to her new friends should be shared with her.

They exchanged another look before Harry started, "Hermione, Blaise is being held in custody."

"What do you mean 'in custody'?" she asked, folding her arms around herself for comfort from the answer she knew was coming.

"Well, we weren't left with many options," Harry said, exasperated. "He was found unconscious with various poisons, and a cruciatus curse on his wand. We couldn't just ignore evidence. So, he was arrested after he was seen to at Bronze Goblet." Harry ran his hand through his hair, uncaring that it was now sticking out in all directions. "I know he's your friend, but you have to understand that we have to do our jobs. He and Draco were the only two people that were stunned."

"He didn't do it," Hermione said, knowing her words would change nothing. "And Draco had nothing to do with any of this. Luna stunned him because he was chasing me. I already told you that."

"I know," Harry stopped her. "But you didn't know Blaise that long, Hermione. You don't know what he was capable of, or what he was involved with."

"And honestly, he could have been using your friendship to keep us off his trail," Ron cut in, earning looks from both Harry and Hermione.

Hermione knew him better than them. She couldn't sit by while he was trapped at Azkaban, even if that meant she wouldn't get the answers she was looking for.

"How do you guys feel about breaking the rules one last time?" Hermione asked, looking at her friends hopefully.

After a moment of hesitation Harry asked, "What do you have in mind?"

They walked the hollow halls, each member squinting past the dim, nearly non-existent lighting to see if they were to be caught for their crime down the hall. They walked nearly a mile before they reached a strong, stocky guard with clothes that perhaps hadn't been washed in a few days and shoes that couldn't carry more dirt if he trudged through mud itself.

"Eye, yer friends jus' left a momen' ago. Why're ye here?" he asked, in a voice full of mistrust. He carried a no nonsense grimace and didn't seem to trust anyone. Hermione was sure this man was born to be a guard.

"Er- well we need to speak to the prisoner. You know, for interrogation purposes," Harry responded lamely.

After looking at the pair, and his eyes passing over her cloaked form without stopping, he allowed Harry and Ron through. "Go'n, I'll be standing right 'ere."

The interrogation could not heard by anyone except the people in the room, but there was a large window to see in through to ensure safety for the Aurors.

Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to remove her cloak, but she wanted so much to hold Blaise at this moment. His eye socket was bruised, and there was a small gash on top of his head. She knew the wounds had to be recent. The hospital would never leave a patient with wounds that were easily healed.

His head came up slowly to the two new Aurors that entered his room. Blaise knew he shouldn't, but he felt relieved it was Potter and Weasley. He didn't think they would interrogate him quite as brutally as the last Aurors.

He straightened his back, waiting for questions, when Harry spoke up. "Hermione is here also. Keep your eyes on us when she speaks."

Blaise's eyes never wavered from Harry's. "Breaking the law, Hermione?" He laughed. "You wouldn't be trying to earn your own cell here now, would you?" He knew she must have gone through a lot of trouble to get here. Breaking the rules, let alone the law, surely had her nerves high strung.

Hermione didn't feel any less nervous, if anything, hearing him talk made her feel worse. "Blaise, I know you didn't do anything. I trust you, but I need to know what happened yesterday."

He looked at the wall and clenched his jaw. Starting slowly, he began, "I talked to my mom, like I told you I would, but then when I went looking for you there was a man telling me I needed to leave town." He shifted his eyes to the table and balled his fists. "I was leaving anyways, but as soon as I was almost out, I saw the Dragon. And well, I ran in the opposite direction of it. I saw the man a few blocks away, and I confronted him. I knew he was part of whatever happened that day, but he began running from me. I gathered what little courage I had and chased after him. I don't remember anything after that." Blaise put a hand on his forehead and shook his head. "You have to believe me; I'm being framed."

"It's true," Hermione said, looking at her friends, although they couldn't see her. "When I got to town I saw Blaise running after someone. Take that as a quote ,Harry. It might help his defense."

"Hermione, that looks nice and all, but there's a lot of evidence stacked against him. He's going to stay here until we know for sure he had nothing to do with this," Ron said, crossing his arms, still upset about coming to visit Blaise in the first place.

Harry began chastising Ron about his negative attitude in front of a potentially innocent prisoner. Hermione used the opportunity to walk to Blaise as silently as she could, hoping her friends wouldn't notice her move while they were arguing.

She crouched down beside Blaise. "I'm going to get you out of here," she whispered. "Get under the cloak when we leave."

Hermione knew the plan was dangerous to her friend's careers, but the time in Azkaban would be detrimental to Blaise's life. She also knew there was little chance of actually escaping, she could end up in a cell herself, but she had to try  _something._

Blaise put his hand slack by his chair, opening his palm for hers. Hermione grabbed the hand, knowing the guard wouldn't be able to see the touch from under the table. "Hermione, I know you mean well," he started softly, watching Ron and Harry's bickering. "But I can't endanger you like that. They'll find the people who did this, and I'll be let free. If I leave now, I'll be the most wanted wizard in all the wizarding world."

Hermione grabbed his hand tighter. His logic was undeniable. She wanted him free, but breaking him out of jail was not the way to get his freedom back. She didn't want to leave him, but when Ron and Harry told her they should leave soon, she dropped his hand and stood.

She looked down at him. Blaise was more upset than he was portraying. She knew from her time together that he was decent at covering his emotions, but she could tell their parting would be more difficult than she intended it to be.

She wanted to give him hope, or even a small amount of happiness in this place. She needed him to know that she was there for him.

She leaned in for a kiss, immediately feeling a surge of nervousness at the act. She wasn't sure how she felt about Blaise, and as soon as she was level with his face she stopped.

Would he think this meant more than it was?  _Was_  it more than just a goodbye kiss? The kiss was supposed to calm Blaise, not force her to question her own motives. Hermione leaned back from the dark Slytherin.

"Just do it," he whispered, his chocolate eyes wandering where she stood, but unable to find her eyes. "What's the worst that could happen?"

What was the worst that could happen? Hermione thought.  _I might like it._

His entire body was still. Blaise tried not to move, in case the movements would somehow change her mind. Hermione bent closer to Blaise, watching his eyes flicker as she got closer to him.

He held his breath as he felt her soft breaths near his lips again. His eyes closed, his lashes ghosting his cheeks against his skin, the effect made avoiding the kiss almost impossible.

He looked irresistible in the dim lights, and knowing that this may be the last time for a long time she would be able to explore the idea of becoming more with Blaise made her want to stay here to think things over, which would take longer than the time permitted.

Even as she thought it, she knew it was a pitiful excuse. They were friends and no matter what, that wouldn't change. Leaning in, she placed her lips to his. The silky fabric restricted most of the feeling, but that didn't change her feelings.

Harry and Ron both coughed awkwardly. They weren't exactly sure what had just transpired, but if the guard saw the face Blaise had made at the wall, it wouldn't take long for him to grow suspicious.

"Think about this while I'm away, Hermione," Blaise breathed.

"So, you and Blaise?" Harry asked as he dismounted his broom at the front doors of Hogwarts. Hermione climbed off after him. "I don't really know what that was," she answered, truthfully.

As soon as they were back to Hogwarts Ron breached a question she was hoping to avoid. "So did that mean that you're done chasing after Malfoy?"

"Not exactly," she replied. She hadn't thought of the blond while they were in the interrogation room, and since it was after midnight, she missed the Portkey. Unfortunately, now she had to tell Harry and Ron about moving in with Draco.

Hermione looked between her friends, "Actually… I forgot to mention that earlier. I was supposed to catch a Portkey to Malfoy Manor, and well- I kind of missed it, so I need a ride there."

"Why are you going to Malfoy Manor?" Harry asked, growing angrier as the seconds passed without a response.

Hermione tapped her foot on the ground and looked at Ron, who was now mirroring Harry's reaction. "I'm moving in with the Malfoys," she said sheepishly.

"What?!" Ron burst out. "You can't be serious! You need to avoid Malfoy, not move in with the bloke!"

"I don't need your permission, Ronald-"

"Hermione, why did they ask you to move in?" Harry cut in in an unnaturally cool voice.

Hermione didn't see the harm in answering, but found herself stuttering. "P-Protection. They need protection."

He looked at Ron, who didn't seem to catch on to what Harry had just divulged from her answer. "Go get your things, Hermione," he said, clenching his fists. "We're going to visit the Malfoys."


	13. The Book

Draco sat up in bed as the wards were breached. During the war, visitors never had qualms about entering their home at night. Since the ending of the war, there were few visitors, but none that entered during the night. The chance that this was trouble seemed incredibly high.

Draco quickly grabbed his wand. The recent events had sent everyone into a panic, and his families' paranoia even more so than most. Lighting his wand, he left for the safe room. He knew his parents would look for him as soon as they could. Until then, he'd sit alone, waiting for this to pass as it had in the past.

It was a good twenty minutes of twirling his wand and practicing spells on the lone chair in the hidden room before his house elf, Flick, gave news that his parents had taken care of the guest.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. He was still worn out from the attack on Hogsmeade, and he would talk to his parents in the morning.

Right before drifting off to sleep he heard a door shut from what sounded like the guest room next to his bedroom. Usually, no one entered his wing, but it didn't sound like a disturbance, so he stayed in bed. It was probably the elves doing a sweep of the house.

Harry insisted that he speak with the Malfoys, but they spoke in riddles, and all her own questions were denied.

Everyone was telling her that she would know the reason she was here eventually, but eventually didn't seem soon- or reasonable- enough.

If she was going to be staying as protection, shouldn't she know what she's protecting against? But despite her questioning, there was no prevail. All she learned was that Harry was angry at the Malfoys for 'dragging her into this mess.'

Whatever mess they were talking about, she knew it involved the recent attacks. However, there had to be more to the story, or else they would all argue normally around her, which they weren't.

She was at the point that she was thinking about hexing Harry for whatever he was hiding, but she knew that similarly to arresting Blaise, he wasn't allowed to talk about it to people outside of his job.

A house elf woke her in the morning to let her know that her presence was mandatory at breakfast- which could have possibly been the most awkward of events in the history of ever- with only the elder Malfoys.

"Miss Granger, why exactly did you miss the Portkey we arranged yesterday?"

_Oh you know, just breaking into Azkaban in a failed attempt to free Blaise._ "I just lost track in the library. I'm usually a punctual person, but I guess I was feeling a little nostalgic," she replied, not expecting them to believe her, but hoping they wouldn't push.

Lucius made a noise of disapproval, but didn't ask again.

Narcissa explained the schedule: schooling on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 8 to 6, and explained that all other hours she was free to do as she pleased. All they asked was that she let them know if she plans to leave their grounds.

Hermione decided to take a trip to the library. Scouring the shelves, she found two books: "A magical guide for the forgetful Wizard" and "Cures to forgetful magical minds". After taking a quick trip to her bedroom, she left to relax outside.

Propping her back against a strong tree, she skimmed through the second book first. It was mostly a medical magical guide that proved little help in the way of magical objects. However, the second book- well, that held promise.

It provided information on artifacts that held different properties in memories. Hermione began at the intro, as not to skip over anything important.

_Charmed memory objects can be used for everyday use. Many important wizards in the past, even Merlin himself, used a memory assistant. Usually, these wizards use the assistant for remembering names or previous meetings of the individual they are trying to remember. Some have even found use of these assistants recreationally. The main idea of the following chapters is to give comfort to those wizards and witches with memory loss, and those who seek to remember as long as possible._

The first chapter explained that the memory objects reflect only memories from surrounding people, usually within one meter of the object holder, and the object is limited to general thoughts that the other person is currently thinking.  _Well that explained why Draco saw memories he hadn't actually had._

It didn't explain why he had been idle for so long, though. Hermione skipped back to the index, looking for answers. Usage… History… Creating…

"What are you doing here?!" Draco yelled, walking towards her with balled fists.

"I'm reading," she said, nodding to her lap as if it were obvious.

"I meant what are you doing at my house, Granger!" Although he had at least three layers for warmth, he was shivering and trying, but not succeeding, to cover up the shakes.

Hermione thought that the Malfoys would have told their son that she was to be living here. Hell, she had thought that they had spoke to him about it before they asked her. Hermione was quite angry that the Malfoys had left her to deal with Draco's ignorance.

"Why are you so angry?" Hermione asked, taken aback by his outrage. "I was invited," she added, answering his question.

"I'm  _angry_  because you are the last person I want at my house right now. Your hypocritical and self-righteous and I don't want you here! You act like you have so much wisdom, but when it comes to acting on your own words, what do you do?" He paused, not actually waiting for a reply. "You accuse me of all the things you said everyone 'got wrong about me'. It's bad enough I had to deal with you at school, and now you're at my house?!"

"Are you honestly still angry about what happened at Hogsmeade?! I'm sorry for thinking you were trying to murder me, but you don't take a witches wand when she's about to go to battle!" she answered, her voice rising in pitch with each word.

Truthfully, Draco had just been writing her an owl in his room to apologize for sending her away, but when he looked out of his window, he saw her sitting casually reading a book.

At first, he thought he may have been imagining the bushy hair, but one can only think it is a hallucination after so many blinks.

"I'm done arguing. Why are you here?" Draco didn't miss a beat before he continued, "I don't have all day, Granger. Tell me, so you can go back to wherever you came from."

"Malfoy, shut up!" Hermione yelled. At this moment, she wished she hadn't agreed to stay. It wasn't worth the trouble if Draco was going to be rude the entire time. "I'm here because  _your parents_  think that I can provide 'protection'."

"They brought you into this?" He knew what was happening, and he didn't like it at all. They were playing Granger as if she were a pawn- and she had fallen for it.

"Brought me into what?" she asked, throwing her hands in the air, losing her bookmark.

Draco knew he shouldn't talk about the situation with her yet. If his parents thought they needed protection, and she could provide it, than he shouldn't scare her into leaving. Instead he changed the subject, back to the usual banter that she couldn't seem to help ignoring.

"What makes you think you can take books from my library? That book could be temperature sensitive, but of course, you probably don't know much about taking care of priceless objects," he sneered, snatching the book from her hand.

Hermione jumped up, attempting to grab the book, but he extended his arm completely above his head to read the title. "A Magical Guide for the Forgetful Wizard… Already turning into the old hag with dementia you were destined to be, Granger?"

"Accio."

The book flew to Hermione's hand, and she booked it. She ran as fast as she could, refusing to look over her shoulder.

She hurtled over a bush, landing on her ankle and slamming into the ground, shoving her hands and face into the dirt. Draco took the opportunity to grab the book from its spot in front of Hermione. Shoving the book underneath his arm, he ran back into the house.

He made it to the gardens before Hermione called after him, "You're just going to leave me here?!" Her ankle was twisted, and she was covered in dirt. She sat up, staring incredulously at his retreating form.

"Use your wand!" he called back with a grin.

Hermione stood up and brushed the dirt from her hands on the front of her jeans.  _That was rude,_ Hermione thought. Only Draco would ignore that she was in pain in order to win a challenge.

She cast a quick healing spell and walked back to the house. There was no use in running at this point. If he didn't want to be found, she wouldn't find him. Instead, she opted to read in preparation for her study sessions this week.

Lunch was served individually, and Hermione recognized the house elf that served her from her previous visit, Flick.

Flick talked to her for a short while about his daily life- which had gotten "significantly" better since the end of the war- usually involving chores, with downtime to visit family he hadn't seen since they were traded to other masters.

Although he was able to do things he had before, he and the other house elf, Daisy, were still unpaid. This was something she knew needed to be changed, something she would ensure was changed.

After hours of studying, Hermione left her designated guest bedroom and began exploring her new residence.

The halls were still filled with portraits, except this time when she walked around the eyes weren't following her disapprovingly. Quite the contrary, they all seemed to want to talk to her.

One portrait had even asked for her name, giving a brief appraisal for looking over the Malfoy family.

She wondered if the Malfoy that alerted the portraits of her stay had mentioned her blood status. She figured not, for surely that would change their attitude towards her.

She seemed to have tested fate long enough, and found herself entering the one room in the home that she hoped to never visit again. It's high ceilings and beautiful decor gave no hint to the true terror that she, and many other people, had undergone in that room.

Nothing was different, not even the dread that filled her soul.

Hermione felt a quick buildup of vomit rising before she retched her home cooked lunch on the floor.

Then everything turned black.

"Is she alright?" a soft feminine voice asked while lifting Hermione's head from the floor onto her lap, running her hands over her hair in soft, soothing motions.

Hermione had never heard the voice before, but the voice was so kind it almost made her want to open her eyes to reassure her that she was fine.

Her head was pounding, and the thin layer of sweat made her want to run to the nearest shower. The taste of vomit was still resting on her taste buds, and right when she thought she was going to puke from the sheer taste of vomit she felt a wand on her forehead and the taste was gone, along with the sweat and feverish feeling.

She heard the Malfoy's explaining the room's purpose during the war. Sensing that Hermione wasn't going to wake anytime soon, Narcissa explained the entirety of the 'skirmish at Malfoy Manor' the books were now calling it.

"Hermione's experience of this room has been nothing pleasing," Narcissa finished.

_And so I fainted,_  Hermione thought.

"Poor girl," she heard the soft voice say. "No wonder she's in this state."

Lucius lazily raised his wand at some point during the conversation and deflated some of the pressure in her head.

"What did you say her name was again?" the voice asked. Obviously, the woman hadn't been part of the war, or even picked up a book or newspaper in the last several years.

All of Great Britain knew Hermione Granger was Harry Potter's sidekick. However, the Malfoy's didn't seem phased by the ignorance. "Hermione Granger. Some people say that she was the reason Potter was so successful."

"This is Hermione?" the woman asked, her hand pausing on the top of Hermione's head.  _How did she know her name, if not from the war?_ Hermione thought, opening one eye to catch a glance of the woman.

The woman was dark skinned, with long black hair and almond shaped chestnut eyes. She was the type of beauty that people would sell their souls to the devil for, but that wasn't what shocked Hermione. It was the striking resemblance she had to her son.

"Blaise?" she asked

The woman looked down for a moment then back to the Malfoys. "How hard do you think she hit her head?" she whispered, as if Hermione wouldn't hear her.

She felt infinitely stupid for her word choice. Instead of managing an entire sentence like, 'you're Ms. Zabini?' or even, 'Ms. Zabini', all she said was her son's name. Hermione sat up a little too quickly, instantly seeing white.

Deciding to tough through the pain and rush of blood to her brain, she replied, "I'm fine. You're Blaise's mother?"

She smiled genuinely, perhaps at the fact that Hermione had picked up on the relation. "I am. And you're the Hermione my son has written about, yes?"

Hermione blushed at the words, wondering if the colour would even tint her cheeks through her undoubtedly sick pallor.

The smaller house elf, Daisy arrived with a pop, lifting the potion to Lucius. He made a disgusted face at the elf before telling her to hand it to Hermione, which she took gratefully and added a thank you to counteract the harshness of Lucius.

Hermione downed the potion and all the pain was gone.

Realizing that she was in the arms of her incarcerated friend's mother, Hermione asked, "What brings you here?"

She knew the Malfoy's wouldn't appreciate her question, as they valued their privacy and appreciated secrecy, but Hermione valued knowledge more than she cared what they thought.

"I'm bailing Blaise out tomorrow," she said with a voice of pure happiness, almost making Hermione smile if the setting was different.

The older woman turned serious just as sudden. Hermione assumed the woman was full of extreme emotions, unlike her son who prided himself staying calm and collected.

"You're his friend, right? You must know he didn't do it. He's not behind all the terrible acts on all the-" she started, but was cut off by Lucius' angered request for her to keep quiet.

"Yes, but why are you  _here_?" she asked, this time shooting an angry look towards Lucius.

"Oh! Sorry, I skipped that part. I assumed everyone knew to come to the Malfoy's when they're having legal troubles," she rushed out. "Anyways, you seem to be doing fine, and, well I have a date. I must be going."

True to her word, as soon as Hermione stood, the woman bustled out of the room towards what Hermione assumed was the exit.

"Let's get to dinner now, shall we?"

Hermione almost wanted to go back to her room. She didn't feel pain anymore, but she found it incredibly uncomfortable to be seen at the moment. However, she didn't know how long she had in this place, and there may not ever be such an opportunity to discuss with the Malfoys the treatment of house elves and the rights that should be given to them.

And so an argument she never thought she would be able to have with the Malfoys started.

"They most certainly deserve to be paid, and even more than that, they deserve respect!" Hermione argued, for what felt like the hundredth time.

They were waiting for Draco. However, unbeknownst to them, he was pacing just outside the hallway to enter the dining area.

Before, he had been unsure if he wanted to claim ill and leave. The book that Hermione had been reading only made things more confusing for him, and he wanted more time to think things over, but after hearing the argument they were having, he knew he should intervene at some point- for both his parents _and_  Hermione.

" _They don't have rights_ ," Lucius hissed. "They are house elves _._  They serve their masters. That is the way it has always been because they are  _lesser creatures._ "

Draco wasn't sure what had his father so riled up about the house elf debate, but once he sounded as though he were going to flip the dining room table, Draco decided to intervene.

"Hermione is right," he said, casually. He didn't want to sound as if he cared for the subject- which he didn't- but he also didn't want them to think that their old ways would be able to continue. "I'm not saying you should pay them or anything, but treating them poorly is a sure way to have the ministry passing laws for better treatment. The ministry will pass much stricter laws than just being polite to the elves, and we all know that they've been using any excuse to make new laws and taxes that will make pure-bloods unhappy."

"Because you were Death Eaters." She wanted to distinguish the difference between pure-bloods and Death Eaters. The Weasleys weren't subjected to the taxes. They were only for the Death Eaters and supporters.

Narcissa, who had been relatively silent through the debate, came back fiercer than Hermione or Lucius during their argument. "I was not a Death Eater, child, and my son was all but forced." Narcissa lifted her nose in the air. "You have no right to talk about that subject with us."

Hermione didn't take the hint.

"You were close enough. You raised your child to be hateful, and you were at _least_  in his inner circle, only to a lesser extent. That much was clear in the trials." Hermione refused to change her tone even as she started on the better parts. "You are fixing things now. I know you donate to orphanages for Muggle-borns, but you can't erase your past. You need to question what your values are. Because if you refuse to change, the wizarding world is going to progress while you decline. And yes," she huffed, "that starts with how you treat Daisy and Flick. I've forgiven you for all you have done, but ignoring the past is as grave as a mistake as joining the dark side to begin with."

Her statement ended, and there began a silence unlike she had ever experienced before. Not a single person looked away from her.

Their stares should have made her uncomfortable, but there was a hint of resignation in all their eyes. They were still pure-bloods with strong convictions that they were better than most and many, but they were also people that have never spent an extended amount of time with a Muggle born.

Hermione intended to question them on every old fashioned belief they had while she was here. They needed her, so they wouldn't kick her out. She just wanted them to question their beliefs.

Most of all, she wanted them to know that their future matters more than their past.

Their stares eventually shifted, but the atmosphere didn't change through dinner.

No one said a word after her speech. No one questioned her either.

She knew they were still thinking of her words, and she hoped they were questioning themselves. She hoped she had inspired a seed of doubt.

After dinner ended, Draco asked to speak to Hermione privately.

His mother looked at them suspiciously while his father seemed to be glad that Draco was taking her away.

Draco pulled her down the halls until they were in his wing of the house.

Picking up the book from the desk in his private study, he held it in front of her. "Why are you reading this?" he accused.

"I know you may have not noticed- Maybe you were too busy making fun of my blood, or how I looked- but I do read quite a lot of books," she answered, brushing off his tone.

The comment only fueled Draco's anger further. He knew she was playing coy.

"I know you're reading this because of the incident at the house in Hogsmeade- that I'm sure we broke into by the way," he said, glaring at her. "Why memories though? What I saw hasn't happened. Shouldn't you be reading about prophecies... or something?"

Hermione looked down at the book. "I was reading it for something else entirely," she lied.

She looked back at Draco who was now gripping the book so hard that she was sure his fingers were indenting the cover.

Before she even realized what was happening, the book flew across the room sending a loud bang throughout the room, tearing its pages.

"Don't fucking lie to me," he growled. "You know something."

Hermione didn't like that she no longer had the ability to lie to him. She had lied to him before, and it worked. Why did fate have to test her at this particular time?

He knew he couldn't possibly have been obliviated, because the memory had showed older versions of them. There was also the fact that the book specifically said that obliviated patients react the same as patients with dementia, seeing the memories, but not completely connecting that they were part of their lives. He hadn't connected at all. He went into shock, and that was something the book didn't offer an explanation for.

"I have a hypothesis to why you reacted that way," she said, calmly ignoring his outburst. "But I need to show you something before I can do that."

"Just tell me," he pushed. Draco was sick of the way she evaded his questions. Things had been fine before he had ever talked to her, and at this point he wanted her to tell him what she knew and ignore her for the rest of his stay.

"Draco, you won't believe what I'm going to say. I  _need_ to show-"

"Just hurry up," he snapped.


	14. Unstable

 

"Granger, why are we here?" Draco asked, crossing his arms and tapping his foot on the hardwood floors of the library.

Hermione walked to the desk at the back of the library. Much like she predicted, Draco's eyes widened a fraction before going back to his usual glare.

"I've led you all this way so you could sit on a desk?" He looked even more angry than before, but Hermione was sure he was trying to overcompensate his anger in order to avoid giving away what the desk was hiding.

She patted the spot next to her, inviting him to sit with her.

Draco stalked over to her didn't want to give away the location of the entry by refusing to sit on the desk- it would just peak her endless curiosity. Sitting on the desk, he waited for an explanation.

"Can you just hurry-"

" _Ouvrir Grotte"_  she whispered, opening the ground beneath them. Refusing to look at Malfoy, she continued the rest of the secret spell. " _Sous."_

He waited until the dark magic surrounded his body, and Hermione had hopped of the desk, before realizing the extent of what had just happened.

" _How do you know about this room?"_ he asked, the blood draining from his face. Had she followed his father here? His parents would be sure to have heart attacks if they knew that the golden girl knew the location of their stash of dark books and objects.

Even more than that, this room was their one way ticket to Azkaban- and there was no getting around this.

_Unless they kill her,_ he thought.

No, he wouldn't let that happen. He would do his time before another name was added to the list of dead at the hands of his parents. Even more than that, he didn't want  _her_ to die. She'd become a friend of sorts to him. If he needed to, he would just obliviate her- and be more careful about when they visited the room.

"-so you showed me this place and tookmetothepensive," she rushed, waving her hand to the back portion of the room. The pensive was there, but unseeable from the spot they stood.

Since he had missed what she had said, he asked, "What do you mean 'I took you here'? Only Malfoy's have been in this room."

"During the spell…" she repeated. "In the future, you brought me here to look at memories of us. Before I left, I asked for the spells to get into this room. You didn't want to give them to me, mostly because you didn't want me talking to you, but we're here now, and they were useful. Don't you think?"

She sounded like a loon to him.

And he told her as much.

"I'm not crazy. That's why I had to show you this, because you wouldn't believe me otherwise. That's why I think you reacted so poorly to the memory you saw. Unlike forgetting, or being hexed to forget, there was nothing for you to forget, or rather remember. The memories you saw were from my time in the future, but they didn't  _really_  exist. You weren't able to remember them, like the purpose of the chain, and I think that may have something to do with the reaction you had."

"Although, I can't be sure," she quickly added. "There's no one else we can really test it on. Unless… where is your floo network?" Hermione asked.

Ignoring her question, he asked, "So you're telling me we knew each other in this future? And we lived in Hogsmeade? In that house?"

"We didn't live in that house, we lived in..." Hermione started, but knew he wouldn't know the town's name. "A Muggle town."

There was no way he would live in a Muggle town. Even living with Hermione seemed like a long shot. Draco actually scoffed this time. "I would never live with a Mudblood."

Draco hadn't realized his slip until Hermione had her wand at his throat and by then, it was far too late.

"You listen to me, Malfoy," she spat. "I may be a Mudblood, but you  _did_  love me in that lifetime, whether you accept it or not."

He stood, rooted in the spot, resisting the urge to move in case she was set on hexing him. He knew she was a better wizard than he, and she was dangerous when angered. "You can stay on that high horse of yours and rot for all I care, but just know that you will never be the great man that you could be.”

She lowered her wand. She hoped the last part stung. Even more, she hoped that the words meant something to him. Hermione had held back the tears that were threatening to come for far too long. Before he could see her reaction, she ascended the desk back to the library.

Hermione laid on her bed trying to sort out her feelings. She didn't know why the word hurt so much. He had called her a Mudblood plenty of times in the past, but this time it was different. He hadn't even said it to hurt her this time.

_Maybe it's time to move on,_ Hermione thought, but for some reason, the thought didn't make her feel any better. Giving up on him seemed out of the question… even if she had told him she didn't care what happened to him.

She tried reasoning that it was the future version of him that had her clinging to him, but she knew that couldn't possibly be it anymore. She thought back to when Harry and Ron were leaving Hogwarts. She had still been harboring hope that they were meant for each other, but the weeks after... the more time she spent with him, the easier it was to separate the two versions in her mind.

The two were just too different. This Draco had a special place in her heart that even the older version couldn't occupy.

_What had Draco said?_  Hermione thought back to their conversation of her staying in the future. "Oh yeah," she said out loud, "Something about not having the same memories."

And it was true. The older Draco would never be able to fill the part of her heart the real Draco had buried his way into. She realized that she had feelings for him after he tried to save her in Hogsmeade. They had become friends during the time they spent together in study group. Maybe it was helpful that she had spent time in the future. She had lost most of the animosity she held for him and began to like the person he was.

Which only made his words from earlier hurt more.

Hermione spent the next day in complete silence. There was nothing more to say to Draco, and even less to say to the older Malfoys. And much to her dismay, even the house elves were too busy to hold a conversation.

All there was to do was wait for Blaise- who she was only half sure would come visit her. It wouldn't have been so terrible of a wait if she had something to do, but she couldn't bring herself to pick up a book to keep herself distracted, and there was little else to do.

Blaise's arrival was later than she hoped, but she still hadn't expected him to leave Azkaban so soon. Hermione inquired as to how he was released so easily, and Blaise insisted that the Malfoys were practically specialists when it came to avoiding sentences. Which shouldn't have surprised her, but it had.

Besides the fact that he used the Malfoys for legal advice, she had to admit that she was happy she could see him.

As much as Malfoy seemed to tolerate her while Blaise was around, while he was gone things were much worse than they had been, and she needed a friend right now.

Reading her book from his lap, she glanced at him for what felt like the tenth time.

"Blaise?" she asked, her dark brown eyes boring into his.

He didn't say anything, only a small tilt to his head indicated he was listening.

"Do you think Malfoy's changed since the war?" she asked, resting her book on her stomach, using her hand as a bookmark.

Blaise knew the questions of Draco would start eventually. He was just hoping it wouldn't be so soon into their time together.

"Very little has changed," he answered, leaning back on his palms. " I think he's just focusing more on the good in him."

"Well wouldn't that mean he's changing than? If he's focusing on the good, that's already a change."

Blaise shrugged. "What's this about?"

No one knew about the spell except for her close friends and Draco, and she needed to tell Blaise. She wanted someone who would give her unbiased advice.

Hermione sighed. Sitting up, Hermione grabbed Blaise's hand. "I did this really stupid thing before I met you, and I've been paying the price for it." She explained the story, leaving out the details that weren't essential.

After answering a few the questions he had, she asked "Do you think he'll ever be like that?" She had feelings for who he was now, but ever so often he'd do something that reminded her of the years he spent tormenting her- like calling her a Mudblood.

Hermione knew what Ron and Harry would say: She'd lose her mind thinking that way. Hermione didn't think it would be right to change him, but she didn't want to sit back and watch the elitist Draco Malfoy- that hadn't seemed to exist lately -come back, for her benefit or otherwise.

"Hermione, I'm not a seer. There's no way of knowing that. All we can do is hope that Draco, and everyone else for that matter, will see the world as you and I do."

Hermione curled into his torso for comfort. Blaise was right. There was no way of knowing if he would change.

"Hermione?" He started, opening his mouth and closing it. He wasn't sure if this were the time to talk about it, especially after she admitted her feelings for Draco, but he wasn't sure the next time he would see her was.

"Hermione, I just want you to know, that how you feel for Draco is-" He didn't think it would be ideal to bring up her feelings for Draco while talking about this. Rephrasing his sentence, he continued, "I want you to know that even if Draco seems like the best route, there are other options for you." He looked down towards her. "Me, for example."

_Boy do I sound foolish_ , Blaise thought. It wasn't everyday you admitted feelings for someone, but he knew it shouldn't have been done like that. _It_ _sounded like I was trying to sell her something._

"Blaise," she began. "What happened in Azkaban, while it wasn't a mistake, it shouldn't happen again."

Blaise's reaction was just as she expected. Pure, raw emotion that was quickly covered up. Setting his lips in a thin line, he refrained from saying anything, knowing that she would give an explanation if she wanted to.

Apparently she did.

"It's not that I don't think it would go anywhere, or even that there may not be something there… but you don't deserve someone that's going to give you half of their heart."

Blaise refused to let her see how much her words stung. He'd take half of her. Hell, he'd take just a chance, but he knew her mind was set. There was nothing more to be said.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter, wishing things were different.

Giving her a kiss on the forehead, he helped her up, leading her back to the castle. He had to get back home soon. His house arrest would be effective soon, and she shouldn't be outside in the dark.

"You'll visit me?" Blaise asked, knowing that even if he weren't allowed visitors, Hermione Granger could probably get a pass.

"Of course."

Draco stood at the window watching their interaction, even after his feet began to throb. He knew no one would benefit from his spying, but was unable to stop himself.

In some parallel world, she was his. And for some strange reason, it made sense.

_But what is she doing with Blaise?_

Draco had been watching Hermione all dinner- an observation that Hermione wasn't comfortable with. The stare was more of a glare, if anything. She shrugged it off as Draco being himself and continued to eat as if it were nothing. ...That was before he spoke.

"Interested in dating felons now, Granger?" he asked casually, taking another bite of the steak and looking at Hermione. Sure, he could have said it better, but it gauged the reaction he was hoping for.

Hermione, who had been about to take another bite, stopped her fork in midair, jaw now slack.

Looking at the other two at the table, it seemed they weren't suspecting his question either. Lucius looked confused, while Narcissa was watching Hermione carefully, awaiting her answer.

"We both know he didn't do those things, Draco," she said, taken aback.

Blaise was Draco's best friend from what she could tell. Sure, they didn't spend as much time together as Hermione did with him, but they knew each other their entire lives, and that had to count for something.

"Ah, but you're interested in him," he pressed, keeping a straight face and taking another bite.

"That isn't a topic for the dinner table," Lucius cautioned, while Narcissa merely raised an eyebrow at Draco.

"What's it to you?" questioned Hermione, ignoring his warning.

"I think we should know if you're sleeping with a criminal-"

"That's quite enough," Lucius cut in.

"-after all, we don't need any more bad publicity," Draco said, smiling sweetly at his father. He knew they wouldn't be able to deny the logic. They may not be identified for helping Mrs. Zabini, but the Aurors would know if their house guest paid regular visits to Blaise.

They all turned to Hermione, awaiting her reply.

She hated being put on the spot. What had it mattered before if she spent time with Blaise? But for some reason he decides to ask her about him now, and she'd only spent a few short hours with Blaise. Draco of all people knew that she spent most of her time with him, and he had never said anything before.

Feeling the anger tint her cheeks, she threw her napkin on the table. "I may be staying here, but I refuse to discuss my personal life to everyone at the bloody dinner table!"

Hermione stood up and left. She walked quickly, attempting to avoid anyone who would follow her.

Watching her leave, Draco stood from his chair, making an awful screech on the stone beneath him and shouted, "You move on quicker than most, Granger, didn't expect that from you!"

Sure, he hadn't been explicitly told that they had been a couple in the future, but he gathered they had been together by the memory that he had seen.

As to whether the real Hermione had feelings for him, well, that was more of an educated guess.

It wasn't just the reaction she had when he had kissed her on the cheek all those weeks ago, no, it was more than that. It was the way she truly believed he could be someone greater than he actually was, the way that she made it a point to make him feel like he could change for the better.

He wasn't sure how he felt about her yet, but there was no way that he was going to let her fixate herself on his best friend while he was sorting that out. If she had liked him in the future, than surely she'd like him in the present?

After he had seen the memory in the chain, Draco had been sure that he had seen a prophecy- that he was destined to be with Hermione; A prophecy that didn't seem far fetched. Perhaps it should have worried him, but it wasn't such a bad idea.

She wasn't ugly. In fact, she was quite beautiful without trying. She was smart and kind, and she saw the good in him.

That was one thing that worried him, if he had changed as significantly as she said he had, than there was a chance that she wouldn't be interested in who he really was.

If she realized that he might never be that person, would she still spend time with him? Had she already realized this and moved on? These questions were plaguing him all day while watching them from his window.

Completely lost to what Draco was talking about, the older Malfoys waited for Hermione to reply. Originally, Narcissa thought it was the girl that liked her son, but now, it seemed it may be the other way around.

Hermione went ridged, unable to move. She didn't know what had Draco's knickers in a twist, but if it weren't completely disrespectful to hex someone inside their own house, in front of their parents, at the dinner table- she would have.

"I haven't moved on from anything!" Hermione shouted, balling her fists. This was not the place to be talking about it, but she couldn't stop the words from coming. "You seriously have no idea what you're talking about." Looking back at Draco, she added, "Once you have cooled down, we can talk about this. Until then, keep your mouth shut."

Hermione left the hall in a hurry. Of all the time to bring that subject, he chose to do it in front of his parents. She was tired of his git-like behavior. She needed to get away. She needed an escape. So she left for the library.

Draco found Hermione a few hours later curled up on a plush chair with her hair tied in a messy bun atop her head. Draco watched her nibbling at her bottom lip, as she flipped to the next page of her book. He knew he was the reason she looked so unhappy at that moment.

He knocked on the already open door, alerting her of his presence. Hermione glanced up at him before shutting her book and tucking it under her arm, moving to leave the room. She didn't want to talk to him at the moment. His behavior lately was unbearable and she wasn't ready to deal with him.

Draco's hand stopped her as she walked past. "I shouldn't have brought up your personal life. It was incredibly rude, and I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded her acceptance, the apology was honest, but she wanted her space. Hermione tried to walk past but was stopped with a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione, would you like to take a walk with me?" he asked. "I know I've been incredibly inconsiderate lately, but I'd like to ask some questions if I may?"

She didn't want to deal with him right now, but he had apologized, and she wanted to know what questions he had.

After walking outside, they spent a while walking in silence. Hermione figured he wasn't sure how to ask the questions he had. If he wasn't ready to ask, surely she wasn't ready to answer.

Reaching an opening in one of the gardens, Draco cast warming charms on both of them.

"How was it?" he asked, sitting on the lone wooden bench.

Hermione continued to stand, knowing that her nerves wouldn't allow her to sit down, she began pacing. "The future?" she asked, his grey eyes following her steps.

Draco didn't move or acknowledge her at all, unsure of whether the question would scare her away completely. She already seemed nervous, and he didn't want it to seem like an interrogation.

Hermione wasn't sure how to answer the question simply, so she didn't. How could she explain that they were in love without sounding like a fool.  _Oh you know, it was wonderful. We were engaged and in love. You bought me a house and we were to be magically bound. Also, you tolerated, and were even friendly, towards my friends._

She could have said all of those things, but what would it do but make him uncomfortable? Chances are he would run for the hills and call her crazy… especially about the last part.

Keeping silent was the only option if she wanted… well, she wasn't sure what she wanted at this point. Did she really want to be chasing after someone who clearly didn't feel the same as she does?

"You fell in love with me didn't you?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Hermione's emotions were clearly written on her face, but she was quick to deny his question.

"I did not fall in love with you. I was only there three days for Merlin's sake. I felt something for you, though. You were down to earth, courteous, and you gave up your life in the wizarding world to be with me... Actually, we had both given up quite a lot," she added, remembering that she had to give up her second family, the Weasleys, to be with him.

She decided to tell him the complete story of her time in the future. He could decide for himself whether he wanted to associate with her after she told him about her time there.

She explained her time with his family- which he seemed unsurprised- the Christmas at the Weasley's- which he laughed at, the time spent at Grimmauld Place- which he denied could have possibly happened. She had even told him about the engagement, leaving only certain parts out that she wasn't ready, or willing, to tell him.

The trickiest part to explain to him was their parting kiss. How she had practically begged for it, knowing it would be their first and last. It wasn't the kiss itself that was uncomfortable to explain- that part was only said in one, simple sentence. It was the implications that came with it. She had developed feelings for him, and the Draco in front of her had no part in it at all. No shared memories, absolutely no feelings associated to her story.

But now he knew how she felt.

Once she was done, she was still anxious, but mostly she felt exhausted. Only a few details were exempt from her explanation, and it had taken nearly an hour to finish.

Draco was surprised that she opened up so easily. He hadn't spent much time with people that would share almost every detail to a story. Usually the people he talked to would either refuse to talk completely or divulge as little as possible to get the point across.

He found himself rather enjoying her emotions, how she would talk faster and smile during the better parts, even how she she slumped her shoulders during the parts that weren't easy to talk about.

She felt so much, and Draco couldn't help but feel the emotions with her. Once she had reached the end of the story he became uneasy.

"Hermione, I'm not him," he started. He wasn't sure if she would break down from his words. She seemed to care for that version of himself, and by association she may think that he was that person, but he wasn't. He didn't think he would ever be willing to leave the wizarding world. He didn't think he'd ever be able to date someone his mother despised. He didn't know how he had possibly become that person that he was in the future, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to become that person. Carefully, Draco finished, "I'm not that guy you kissed. You know that right?"

Draco watched Hermione's eyes glaze over, unresponsive to his question.

"Hermione?" hesitated Draco. "You know that that version of me is gone right?"

Hermione hadn't wanted to acknowledge his statement, she knew he was gone, but she still missed him. In just three days, she knew she could have grown to love him. She left that world knowing that she would never have a love like they had, and that hurt.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she agreed, "I know he's gone."


	15. Watching

"Good morning, Granger," Draco greeted, hoping the cheer in his voice would make this greeting different from the last.

Hermione's shoulders slumped. Pulling her book bag closer, she gave a pitiful smile. "'Morning."

Draco couldn't stand how she had been the past week- absolutely and completely withdrawn. She'd ignored him completely during tutoring, and afterwards, if he'd ask her questions, she'd give the shortest answer and walk away.

_Just because I'm not the guy she wants me to be doesn't mean she can shut me out._

What was so wrong with him that she was set on evading him? Was her loss of an older version of himself so great that he was no longer worth the common decency of a simple conversation?

"Granger!" he called, however she was already halfway down the hall and hadn't heard him. He refused to run after her. Sighing, he left for his bedroom to grab his broom. Flying always made him feel better.

In truth, Hermione had heard him, but the past week had been harder than she expected. She'd told him everything, sure, but his reaction had been less than spectacular. He'd thought that she confused him with his older version, something that was nearly impossible to do due to his pigheadedness.

She just wanted to give him time to absorb the information, and to know that she wasn't confusing him with his future self. If she stayed away from him, he would know that she wasn't delusional, right?

Well, that had been her tactic until he had followed her after a tutoring session almost a week after his last attempt to catch her alone.

A week after Draco's failed attempt, he decided to follow her wherever she went. He wanted to catch her alone, and the hallways proved inefficient. She'd always just make an excuse that she had to be somewhere.

Of course, he wasn't buying it, but what could he do? Tell her she was lying? She was the type of person who would lie, or die trying. And without any hard evidence that she really didn't have anywhere to be, he couldn't call her out on it.

Stalking up to the library, he heard a male talking and stopped before he entered the room. He could barely make out the voice, but the fact that she was talking to someone else angered him to no end. Draco hadn't talked to anyone besides her and his family since she'd been here. Granted, there was no one for him to talk to even if he wanted to. Pulling out his wand, he amplified the voices ever so slightly.

Draco Malfoy was not above eavesdropping.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione asked.

"I think I saw her, Hermione."

"Saw who, Ron?" she asked, impatiently.

"The woman from the future. I think it was her. I mean, I can't be sure. She was a lot older then, but she looked like a younger version of her, I'd say," Ron answered.

This seemed to cheer Hermione up significantly. "Oh! That's wonderful! Did you say anything to her? What's her name?" asked Hermione. Perhaps she knew her.

"I don't exactly know her name-"

"Did she go to school with us?" Hermione pressed.

"That's just it- she was a Muggle. I was visiting a town, not far from where you are now. I only saw her in passing."

Hermione assumed the woman from his future had been a witch, considering she was touring with the Chudley Cannons, but she had never asked him about that. It wasn't typical for Muggles to be involved in the wizarding world, but perhaps his world was more different than she had imagined.

"So what are you going to do?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I was hoping for advice. I know that your future was a lot more personal than mine, with you knowing the git and actually getting to see how they fell in love and all that rubbish, but I was thinking of asking her on a date. You know, to test things out. I just wanted to know how you handle things around him, knowing how things have ended up with him before?"

There was a moment of silence that Draco worried his amplification charm grew old, but she spoke just before he almost made the sound louder.

"Well, at first I was scared," Hermione began. "I mean, really scared. I didn't want to be near him, just in case. I think the pivotal moment for me, to know I wasn't going to go insane, was after he kissed me on the cheek that night you left-"

"How was that a night that you thought you  _weren't_ going crazy? Far as I could tell you seemed in a daze that night," Ron interrupted. "You were saying it was a sign or something."

Draco laughed inwardly at the revelation. Everything fell into place now that he knew about her experience- why Blaise was always saying she acted strangely around him, and most importantly why she had responded to the kiss so well, all of it.

Hermione scowled at Ron, knowing he could see her perfectly clear through the floo connection. "It was the nights after that. I wasn't thinking about the Draco I had started to like; I was thinking of him as who he is now- how we could create a completely different life, if he wanted. I don't know if I can explain this properly, but the weeks after that I reasoned with myself that past and present Draco are two very different people. I've learned to be a friend to Draco, because he's a good person at heart, but if he doesn't want more... I'm going to have to accept that."

Hermione drew in a breath before continuing, this was probably the best Ron had ever listened to her, and possibly the longest he'd sat through her advice.

"The best thing you can do, if you ask her on a date, is to learn about her and who she is now."

"Well, that will be easy, since I didn't know her that well to begin with. How's it working out for you?" he asked.

"Not so good," she admitted. "He seems to think I can't tell the difference between them. At first it was hard. After all, he looks almost the same- he wasn't much older, but the more I get to know him… He's just so different," she said, leaning forward and shaking her head. "That Draco cared for me, and I think that's why I fell for him. But Draco, he's kind of obnoxious, and  _really_  rude sometimes, but he's smart, and I think he's trying to be a better person. He's just trying to figure out who he wants to be, and I can respect that. In fact, I think that's why I've started to like him, as himself, because he's making an effort."

She deliberated telling Ron that Draco had called her a Mudblood, but knew it would just anger him and solve nothing. Draco was her friend, she'd have to deal with him alone.

"Alright Hermione, I'll let you use your best judgment. Don't hesitate to ask me to come get you though. I don't like you being there. It's…" he stopped. "It's trouble."

"What are they not telling me Ron?" she asked, lowering her voice so low that Draco almost didn't catch the question at all.

"Hermione, I've taken a vow to secrecy on the issue," he said, reluctantly. "But I want to see you soon. I have something I want you to try."

"The last time you asked me to try something, I worried I was going insane," replied Hermione.

"Just keep an open mind," Ron responded, grinning.

After saying their goodbyes, Draco waited a minute before entering the room, not wanting her to know that he was listening.

She was lying on the couch, her eyes closed. It seemed she was trying to sleep. Unaware of his presence, he sat down next to her, as he had many times before during study group at Hogwarts, causing her eyes to shoot open.

Sitting up quickly, Hermione asked, "What are you doing?"

"Calm down, Granger, I just wanted to apologize for how I've been since you've-" Draco nearly said been with me, but it sounded more intimate than he cared to say out loud. "Since you have been around," he corrected.

Draco knew he had been a right piece of work since they had started spending time with each other a little over a month ago. Hermione had been right in what she said to Ron, he was just figuring out who he wanted to be. And he knew the person he'd been lately isn't it.

"It's fine, Draco."

And it was, she knew he wouldn't change overnight. He had to know what he wanted first, and even if he didn't know what he wanted, his apology meant something. It at least meant he was trying.

Hermione shifted closer to him, and laid her head in his lap.

"Why am I here?" she asked, staring blankly at the shelves in front of them.

"You know I can't tell you that," he answered, looking down to see her expression. She looked indifferent, but Draco knew she cared more than she let on.

"You mean won't," she corrected, closing her eyes.

Draco wasn't sure if he wanted to leave before or after she fell asleep, so he moved to lay behind her, as not to wake her if he left. Draping his arm over hers, he started, "Granger?"

Hermione hummed in response.

After the conversation with Ron, she had wanted to rest for a few moments before reading her book, but now that Draco was here, Hermione only wanted to sleep in his arms. She didn't know when she'd get an opportunity to be this close to him again, and she wasn't going to waste it.

Draco's voice vibrated on her back. "I'm sorry I  _won't_  tell you, but you'll find out when the time is right."

He waited a few minutes but no response came. Feeling drowsy, he mumbled to see if she was awake. "Granger?"

She'd fallen asleep.

Draco contemplated leaving, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to. This was the most intimacy he'd had for nearly a month. And, he reasoned, it was much easier to fall asleep here than to travel all the way back to his bedroom. Making his decision, he pulled the throw blanket over them and laid back down.

Plus, she smelled too damn good.

Draco slowly opened his eyes to a nest of brown hair in front of him. Taking in a deep breath he tried to think of anything but the softness of her legs or how every breath he took filled his lungs with vanilla. He knew Hermione would be angry if she woke up to him pressed against her bum, but a woman's body was a woman's body, and the stiffness of his trousers wasn't listening to his logic.

Scrunching his eyes shut, he propped himself up and covered his eyes with his hand. He wanted to leave the room, but was afraid she'd wake up. That was the thought that perhaps worried him the most- why was he afraid of waking her up? It had been just a little over two weeks that she had been living here, and somehow she'd managed to get under his skin.

The week she had spent ignoring him had done something to his mind. It was probably just because he'd been forbidden to have anyone his age to communicate with for half a month, but she'd somehow cracked a code- a code that has kept his feelings in check for his entire life. He knew he felt something for her, but he would just have to keep from acting on those feelings until he knew if it was what he really wanted.

Draco shifted further into the couch away from Hermione. He didn't want her to notice his problem when she woke up, and he needed to leave. Trying to give himself time, he opened his eyes.

They weren't alone, as he had assumed, and a pair of crystal blue eyes were staring daggers at him. His heart skipped a beat. It was the same dread that filled him as when his father caught him trying to sneak into his "meetings" when he was a child.

He was caught.

Absolutely nothing could have killed his boner faster than his mother staring at him in a compromising situation.

Not a word was said between them for quite a few moments. Finally, Draco spoke. "What are you doing here?" he asked, glancing down at Hermione, but the noise didn't phase her.

"It's my house," she said, simply.

"Obviously, you have something to say," he said, giving an eye roll.

He hated when his mother was indirect in just about everything she did.

Narcissa sat up straighter, lifting her nose into the air slightly, looking slowly towards Hermione, then back to Draco.

He knew Hermione was the reason she was upset, but it would take more than a simple look to get him to divulge any information. "Yes, that's Hermione. You invited her here, remember?"

"Stop being evasive, Draco."

"You stop being cryptic, mother. If you have something to ask, then ask away." Draco's voice had only risen slightly, but it was enough to stir Hermione out of her sleep.

Hermione wiggled closer towards Draco, wanting to share body heat. She hadn't expected him to stay, but it was a welcome surprise. That was, until she heard a woman clear her throat.

Hermione's eyes jumped open. She felt Draco's audible groan. Realizing how she was positioned, she sat up.

Narcissa looked almost as angry as she had at the dinner table in the future, but this time Hermione would steer clear from the confrontation and leave.

Without looking at Draco, Hermione grabbed her bag. "I think I'll be going now."

Hermione stood and without thinking, he stood up with her. "I'll see you out," he said, trying to amend his mistake.

"Uh.. sure," she replied, looking at Narcissa. She wanted to ask him why he was walking her the mere few meters towards the door, but refrained, knowing that his mother would probably enjoy the uncomfortable question- and answer.

Draco saw her to the door, taking care to ensure she walked an acceptable distance from the door. He didn't want her eavesdropping as he had on her conversation the prior night.

He turned to his mother, who had now moved to the bookshelf hosting many of the works written by Malfoys.

"You're father will be hosting a few Aurors within the days to come," she informed. "They know it wasn't the Lovegood girl who cast the charm on you. Unfortunately, that means your father is… in a compromising situation."

"And who's fault is that," he muttered.

"Obviously, telling anyone the truth, besides the Auror's, is out of the question," she continued, ignoring his comment, and giving him a warning glare.

"I haven't told her anything, if that's what you're getting at. She  _still_  doesn't know why she's really here-"

"And we're going to keep it that way."

"Fine, but staring at us while we-" he paused, silently berating himself for bringing up the fact that they were sleeping together. "While she's sleeping isn't going to want her to stay here."

Narcissa gave him a dark look before returning her attention to the shelf. "If she wasn't useful she wouldn't be here. Just remember she's here for a reason, Draco. Don't give her the wrong idea."

"I'm not giving any ideas. We fell asleep on the couch," he said, running out of patients with where the conversation was heading.

Fingering the golden chain around her neck, she turned around. "There's a book missing," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. "Ensure it is returned."

Once the door closed behind his mother, he walked to the bookshelf she was staring at.  _How does that woman know when a lone book goes missing_? he wondered. Figuring it was a good excuse to go find Hermione, he went to ask her about the book.

 


	16. The Visit

The breach of the wards happened a solid three minutes before the sound of the fourth charmed doorbell-chime. The first three chimes, Draco whistled along. Usually there wasn't enough time for guests to ring a charm, let alone four times.

At the fourth sound he walked to window. Mumbling while pushing the thick, burgundy curtain aside. "What on earth is taking the elves so long?"

Hermione shut her book loudly and sat up on the couch. "You know, I'm sitting right here," she said, giving him a no nonsense glare.

Draco scrunched his nose. When he went looking for her this morning, he had searched the entire manor before asking an elf to find her. It was the first time he had inconvenienced himself in order to spare an elf from something they did easier- and a hell of a lot quicker- than he. Daisy came back in less than a minute reporting Hermione was reading in his private study.

He marched up the staircase and through his room, ready to yell at the invasion of privacy, but stopped sharp in the doorway. Hermione was lying on her stomach, book in hand, waving her feet in the air. The curtains were drawn, but the fireplace illuminated the room well enough. She lifted her eyes lazily to the intrusion, and Draco decided it was best not to torture her too much.

Which left the last two hours filled with questions about the missing, and now found, book. Putting his glass of firewhiskey on the end table next to the window, he looked down at the tattered book once more- blank like the last hundred times he looked at it. For some unknown reason he couldn't provoke out of her, she charmed the book wordless when he looked at the pages.

Turning back to the window, he stood taller and looked back down towards the front door. "I know! You've been sitting in  _my study_  all day without an explanation. So, since I've so graciously allowed you to stay, could you please tell me what book you're reading?"

Ignoring his question, and trying to get him to leave her alone, she continued on her mission to change how the Malfoys treat their elves. "Instead of relying on the elves, maybe  _you_  should go answer the door," she said sweetly.

Giving a barely-there glare at Hermione, he walked over to her and ripped the book from her hands. Taking another look at it, its contents remained hidden. Another chime went off, and Draco rolled his eyes. He tossed the book back to her and left to greet the guests.

Yelling after him, she called, "You need to start paying them too!"

_Not likely,_  he thought, before he began replaying and strengthening arguments in his mind for the next time she mentioned paying the house elves.

Swinging the door open with his wand, he stood in the center of the foyer. "What an unpleasant surprise," he said, directing the comment towards the redhead standing under the portico.

Ron's face grew pink, but his partner was all business. "This is not a surprise," Kingsley corrected, holding his head high and taking his first step into the house. "We have arranged a meeting with your parents."

"Yes of course. Must have forgotten," he said, rolling his eyes. Between the minister's serious attitude, and Hermione refusing to tell him about the book, it looked like the day wasn't going to be any fun. "Right this way."

Kingsley walked beside Draco while Ron trailed a few metres behind, refusing to get any closer to Malfoy than needed.

"So how's the investigation going?" Draco asked, trying to get more information than his parents were telling him. Instead of acknowledging him, they continued walking in silence.

Malfoy stopped just short of the office door. "I asked a question," he snapped.

His family hadn't been supportive of Shacklebolt becoming minister, and if it weren't for the self preservation instinct that ran in the Malfoy genes they wouldn't even support him in public. Behind closed doors however, there was no use saving face.

"Mister Malfoy, I do not answer to you, or anyone in your family for that matter. We are here for our investigation, not a briefing," Shacklebolt answered, giving Draco a look that cut off any further questions.

Narcissa opened the door demanding Draco leave. Obeying his mother, he left. Walking past an all-too-pleased Weasley, he rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to let him think his stupid grin had any effect on him.

Just as he turned the corner, he heard light footsteps across the stone floor coming towards him, but when he looked around there was no one in sight. Draco drew out his wand, casting a levitation charm while the steps were passing.

"Hey!" Hermione called out when the cloak was lifted. "How did you know?"

Draco turned around to Hermione's glare. "Try not to gallop next time you're trying to hide yourself," he jabbed.

"I wasn't even making noise," Hermione muttered.

"Yeah well, lets just say living here during the war has kept me on my toes," he replied, trying to keep the pity party to a minimum. He didn't want her sympathy.

Instead of thinking too much about his statement, she tried to take his mind off it. "Want to join me?" she asked, lifting the invisibility cloak.

Draco gave a smile, showing off a set of pearly white teeth. "You're going to listen in on the meeting? That doesn't seem like something a  _good_  house guest would do," he mock-chastised **.**

"Yeah, well, good hosts shouldn't keep their guests in the dark for over a month," she retorted, making Draco's smile fade slightly.

Even he was warned away from their office, so whatever they were discussing had to be serious. But if she was going to hear everything, Draco wasn't going to be left behind.

A few minutes after tucking himself under the cloak, he realized he had made a terrible mistake. "This is ridiculous. I can't even stand up under here."

Both their knees were bent in such a way they were starting to feel the burn in their thighs and an ache in their backs.

"You didn't have to come," Hermione huffed. "Besides, I'm in the same predicament, and you don't hear me complaining."

Every now and then Draco would move ever so slightly, nudging Hermione from under the cover. She wasn't sure if he was trying to kick her out so he could stand up straight, or didn't realize what he was doing. "If you can't learn to share, Draco, then find your own way to keep hidden," Hermione demanded after one too many nudges, pushing him from under the cover.

"Oi," he said, stumbling backwards. "I was just messing around, Granger. Have you never been flirted with?" He teased, reaching out for the cloak.

Hermione tripped on her foot, stumbling slightly backwards, trying to evade his grasp. Draco gave a confused look at the air where she once stood. He was sure she had just been there…

_Did I hear that correctly,_  she thought. He was looking past her now, his grey eyes searching the air, intently listening to know her location. Her face felt hot and her breathing picked up as she tried to figure out if her mind had deceived her- perhaps she had only misheard him. She waited a few moments, letting her breathing and colour get back to normal.

"Hermione, I don't care that you're unable to see someone's intentions, but don't we have some Aurors to spy on?"

So she  _had_  heard him correctly. It was unnerving how calm he was. How was she supposed to know what he was doing? He had apologized for his actions, sure. But that didn't mean that he was, could she dare say, interested in her? She had to focus and push those thoughts to the back of her mind. She needed to hear what the meeting was about, and she would have plenty of time to talk to Draco about this moment later. Sighing, she lifted the fabric to let him under, making sure to avoid eye contact for the time being.

Reaching the study, Draco cast an amplifying spell through the door, earning himself an appraised look from Hermione.

"I know quite a few spells. Don't look so surprised," he said, rolling his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time.

"It's just- it took you no time to remember the spell. Seems like you snoop in on conversations a lot," Hermione assessed, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Her observation was cut off by a groan through the other side of the wall.

"So what you're saying is you can't tell us anything," Ron's voice demanded. It was a similar tone to police on the crime shows her parents used to watch at home.

Hermione was proud at how authoritative he sounded. Being an Auror must have made the trait a necessity- dealing with dark wizards couldn't be easy on a persons patients.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Lucius responded in a bored tone, "but that doesn't mean we can't help."

"And how can you do that? You're unable to tell us anything because you've taken an unbreakable vow. For some reason, your family hasn't learned their lesson when it comes to sorting out the right type of people."

"We have been terrorized by these people just as much as the rest of our community, possibly worse. We've already said we can help. Now are you going to listen?" Narcissa cut in. Draco assumed his father was ready to snap the redheads neck at this point. Her intervention was only necessary when it looked like things were getting out of hand.

There was moment of silence before Kingsley's deep voice radiated. "What are you proposing?"

"A ball," Narcissa answered. Her tone suggested the ball would bring no pleasure. It was almost as if it pained her to suggest it.

"You've already mentioned you are unable to expose this person's identity, Lucius," the minister said, confused at where the conversation was headed.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean he can't expose himself-" a burst of laughter came from Ron, interrupting Lucius.

The room went silent, clearly uncomfortable with the outburst. Whatever Ron found funny was lost on Hermione, but Draco was holding back a chuckle himself. Hermione threw him a quizzical look, but Draco only shook his head. If she didn't understand, there was no use explaining it.

Draco figured his father was nearly about to kill the red- head by now. After a few short breaths, Lucius continued. "We will invite everyone we usually invite, minus the person of interest. Knowing this person, we believe they will demand to be invited."

"What if they suspect a trap, or what if they don't care if they're not invited to some stupid ball?" Ron asked.

"They will care," he answered impatiently. "And if they suspect a trap, we're all in trouble. Considering our lives are all in danger if we don't, I suggest we all play our parts well."

"And if it doesn't?" Ron asked.

"Than we're all dead," Narcissa said, solemnly confirming what they all knew.

Hermione turned to Draco and huffed. "I think I'm entitled to a briefing after this."

Draco shook his head and pointed to the room signaling to be quiet.

"When will this be happening?"

"A week before Christmas," Narcissa informed. "We throw a Yule dance every few years, and since the last few years we have been unable, no one should be suspicious."

"We will let you sort out the details," Kingsley finalized. "We'll be in contact."

"Perhaps it is best we don't stay in contact," Lucius suggested. "There's nothing of value I will be able to tell you, and we don't want to raise unnecessary suspicion. They will undoubtedly be there, and that will narrow your search significantly, yes?" The eavesdroppers assumed there was a general acceptance of the plan.

"You'll receive an invitation by the end of the week," Narcissa told, after chairs began to shuffle around.

"We need to head back," Draco whispered cutting the spell off. "They'll be coming out any second now."

"I want answers," Hermione argued, not allowing him to rush her until he .

"And I'll give them to you," he rushed, placing his hands on her shoulder and looking her in the eye to convey his urgency. "but right now, we need to leave."

Before Hermione could agree, the door opened.

Her eyes snapped back towards Draco, who looked just as concerned as she. Hermione hated situations like these. Always on the brink of being caught. She was sick of it. She wanted to know why they needed her.

Unveiling herself, she stood in front of Kingsley. "Good morning."

His initial confusion was replaced with a broad smile. "Hermione," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder and looking around. "I heard you were living with the Malfoys. It's nice to see you."

"It's nice to see you too," she agreed. She hadn't seen him since before school had started. Even then, it was only in passing at the trials.

"What am I doing here?" she asked, hoping her old friend could help her.

"I can only discuss the issue with the Malfoys, and I'm afraid if they aren't telling you, I'm of no help."

"Hermione, were you listening to our meeting?" Narcissa asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Hermione thought about lying, but from her time here she found that if she wanted answers, she would have to pressure them out of their family.

"You said that your family is in danger more than anyone else's- why?"

Narcissa narrowed her crystal- blue eyes, staring down her nose at Hermione. Lucius came out with Ron, annoyed and possibly ready to throw her friend out of the manor the Muggle way. Lucius stopped when he saw his wife's face. He caught on quick to what happened. He spared Hermione a glance before catching his wife's eyes again. There was an unspoken conversation between the two before Lucius spoke. "We would like you to leave by tonight. We will have the elves pack your bags, and you can return to your studies at Hogwarts."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, glancing at where she had left Draco. "I thought you needed me?"

Lucius and Narcissa both seemed to be enjoying Hermione's discomfort. "Not anymore" Narcissa replied in a voice laced with venom.

Ron's blue eyes were watching Hermione's. Thankfully, she thought, they weren't attempting to convey a much deserved 'I told you so.'

"I will escort you home if you want, Hermione," the minister said in a voiced laced with both sympathy and anger.

"We'll both take you back to Hogwarts," Ron said, throwing a nasty glare at the Malfoys. Ron walked to her side and grabbed her hand, giving it a light squeeze. "You shouldn't be around dodgy company anyways."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione watched Draco uncover himself. She instantly regretted inviting him along.

Not only was the mere reminder that he was watching his parents kick her out embarrassing, but he was also risking his parents anger towards him. If there was something she had learned from her time here about him, it was his deeply rooted need for his parents approval. But judging from the subject of his scrutiny, it wasn't just his parents decision that made him uncover himself. He was glaring at Ron, giving a silent warning that made Hermione's heart jump strangely. He glanced at Hermione, then down to Ron and her interlocked fingers, giving a hardened look at the pair.

She knew holding hands with Ron was probably not the best idea, considering they weren't together, and the act might imply something entirely different than its intended purpose. Not wanting to start an unnecessary fight later, she unlocked her fingers hoping that Ron understood. He gave a lopsided smile back, but mostly for her sake. He didn't like the possessiveness that Draco was showing, but he wasn't going to argue when she looked so distraught.

"Why does Hermione have to leave?" Draco snapped at his parents. He knew his tone wouldn't be appreciated, and the question itself would draw unnecessary attention to an already fragile… association, but he didn't want her to leave just yet.

When he had seen Ron go to her defense, he automatically felt bad about not interfering- but it was the simple touch of comfort that had decided his actions. He didn't want to see her go. He knew what would happen if she left- he would be out of her life for good. She'd spend her days at Hogwarts, and he wouldn't talk to her again. They'd both move on. Sure, they'd probably see each other in public, but he doubted they'd give each other the time of day. And seeing Hermione with Ron, standing innocently holding his hand- he knew he'd never have a chance if she left. He felt like a coward when he hadn't been the one to comfort her, and he couldn't bear to lose whatever potential they had because he couldn't stand with her during bad times.

"We will discuss the matter after dinner. Right now, I'd like to clear out the house," Lucius hissed, looking at the now-unwanted guests.

Draco wasn't going to let his father postpone his answer, however. "It's because she's not valuable anymore, isn't it?" He asked, knowing that was reason. "The moment that you know our family will be protected, you dismiss her- As if you hadn't burdened her by making her move here and play as a pawn in our troubles. And now you're displacing her again?"

Lucius looked as if he wanted to strike Draco, but everyone knew he wouldn't. He had to act like good father in front of the minister. Narcissa looked uncomfortable, and she was sure they would have to concede if Draco put up too much of a fight. Hopefully, she thought, Lucius will end the argument quickly.

"She played her part, and now it's your turn to repay her. She will stay here until the end of the school year," Draco asserted, but Lucius wasn't going to back down.

"My decision is final," he said, turning his back on the conversation.

"Hermione knows!" Draco exclaimed. It was a bold lie, but he  _needed_  her to stay. "Hermione knows about the secret society. I told her everything, and she isn't under an oath like the Aurors not to tell anyone. So unless you want her telling her friends, you should think twice about sending her back to Hogwarts."

"You told her?" Narcissa shrieked.

Narcissa's outburst at something Draco hadn't even told Hermione was nearly laughable. She was somewhat upset that he would threaten his parents that she would tell their secret. She hoped he knew she wouldn't tell anyone even if he had told her. But Hermione wanted to keep her composure through the lie so she kept her eyes on the elder witch.

She didn't know if she wanted to go back to Hogwarts, mostly because she hadn't thought about it until they told her they were kicking her out. But if general feelings were anything to go off of, her initial reaction hadn't been a happy one.

"I told her everything, and if you're going to kick her out still, just know the entire wizarding world is at stake if she is captured and given truth serum," he said, looking at the minister this time.

Kingsley saw through the facade. He knew she would never tell anyone, and there was no chance of someone getting to Hermione at Hogwarts. But if Hermione wanted to stay, he believed he could use his authority to make it happen. "It is in the public's best interest for the situation to be contained. Since reducing public hysteria is the ministry's top priority right now, especially after the attack on Hogsmeade, she will stay here until the situation is resolved," he said keeping his eyes on Lucius.

Lucius' eye twitched at the command. He was sick of having people staying at his house unwanted. He knew that inviting the girl into their home was trouble, and now he was stuck with her. Narcissa insisted that her presence was essential, but yesterday she had come to him requesting to dismiss the girl once they had become a valuable enough asset to finding the resistance. Even now that they were worth the Aurors protection, they were stuck with her. And that angered him to no end.

Knowing he could get a court decision to place Hermione in their home, he conceded and gave the minister a curt nod.

"It is settled," the tall, authoritative man declared. "I will see myself out."

After Kingsley walked away however, the argument was anything but settled.

"How could you do this to us? Choosing a Mudblood over family?" Narcissa roared, causing everyone, including her husband, to jump. Sure, she usually had snappy comments, but Narcissa rarely yelled at anyone.

"She's not just a Mudblood- She's Hermione. She's the girl  _you_ invited to live here. You're the ones that said you would keep her here. I'm merely following through with our promises," Draco defended, taking his stance next to Hermione.

Hermione was surprised by his close proximity. Unlike Ron's friendly and comforting presence on her left side. Draco was aggressively defending her, and was anything but comforting at the moment.

"She's not worth it, Draco," Narcissa seethed in the a tone that Hermione was much more familiar with. "She's not like us. She can never be  _like us_ , and now because of your choices, we're stuck with her." She paused before asking the question everyone had hoped to avoid. "What are you getting out of this, Draco?"

Lucius took two steps forward, picking up on the implications of the question and intervening. He didn't want that question being answered in front of a the Weasley- He especially didn't want news getting out about their son's infatuation with the Mudblood. "As I have said before, we will talk about this later," he snapped, grabbing Narcissa's arm and pulling her away from the argument.

Yanking her arm away from her husband, but heeding his warning, she retreated to her bedroom. Hermione knew from the future that Lucius hated when things were argued openly instead of calmly in private. Hermione would even go as far to say that Lucius preferred when things were not talked about at all.

Ron was now kicking his feet at the stone floors, looking anywhere but the scene in front of him. The air was full of static, and Draco didn't want to stick around for when the silence broke.

"I'll walk you out," Hermione said in a distant voice while watching Draco leave.

"Actually, I kind of took the rest of the day off..." he muttered, looking at where her attention was. "But I'll go if that's what you want, I guess."

The awkwardness in his voice brought Hermione back to the present. "Of course you can stay," she said, beating herself mentally for making him feel unwanted- Just yesterday they had agreed to spend some time together, and it would be terribly rude to kick him out now that he was here.

They made it down one hall before the portraits started to complain. "A Weasley in the manor?" An outraged brunette clothed in 18th century attire with large, heavy jewelry whispered to the hundred year old man in the portrait next to hers. "What has happened to the Malfoy honor? When I married into this family, there would have never been such low-class filth in the manor."

Ron looked at Hermione confused. Anticipating his unspoken question, she answered, "They don't know about me yet. No use in telling them either. It's not as if you can change a portrait's mind."

Ron nodded. Portraits were annoying like that- unchangeable but incredibly outspoken.

"So how is the case going?" Hermione asked. She hoped Draco's lie could get her more information from her friend on what was really going on in the wizarding world.

Ron took a few steps before answering. "I still can't talk about it, sorry."

He didn't sound sorry, but she had already prepared for the let down. Tonight, she would force Draco to tell her. Even if it meant a curse or two.

Hermione opened the wooden door to the library. Ron walked in behind her, getting out a deck of cards, and talking about a new divination technique he had been practicing. Hermione immediately felt something different about the room. It looked larger than it usually did. The curtains were open. Perhaps, she thought, it was an illusion making the room look larger than its actual size, but it seemed like the room had too much space. It looked bare.

Looking towards the floor in the back of the room, Hermione noticed a lone carpet with nothing sitting on it. Right as Hermione placed the empty feeling, a whir of air sounded from the back of the room. The desk was missing- and there was no way the Malfoys would be okay with either of them seeing the location of their hidden room.

"Ron, we need to leave," Hermione hurried, but her urgency elicited no response. He was staring at the opening, unsure of what was happening. She pushed against his torso, using her heels to put more force into the shove. Unfortunately, the Auror training made him much more durable, and the desk was already up.

She turned around to Draco sitting on the desk, staring wide-eyed back at them. Hermione let out a relieved breath of air. If it had been either of the two elder Malfoys, Hermione was sure they would have thrown the killing curse at them by now.

Hermione had never been more happy to see Draco in her entire life. She shared a look with Ron, telling him to stay calm so she could explain, but before Hermione could get a word in, Ron's body slumped to the floor.

The collision with the hardwood floor left a gash on his forehead, blood coating the tips of his hair. His body was so still that she feared he was dead. Hermione dropped to her knees and put two fingers on his neck, checking his pulse. The pulse was strong- a good sign.

She feared he had a concussion. "What do you think happened?" she asked, pulling at her wand with shaking hands from her back pocket to check for head injuries, sparing Draco only a glance before returning her attention back to Ron. Draco's hand twitched, immediately catching Hermione's attention. If he hadn't moved she wouldn't have seen it at all.

Leaning against the desk, Draco gave Hermione a smirk and twirled his wand in his fingers. Realizing what happened, she looked up in disgust at the young man in front of her.

"Draco, what have you done?"

 


	17. Memories

Hermione quickly grabbed her wand from her pocket. She was at a disadvantage on the floor, but she couldn't leave Ron unguarded.

She called out a string of hexes, each one blocked by Draco. He threw himself off the desk, taking long strides towards the girl throwing hexes at him. Each step he took made Hermione more nervous. Frantic, Hermione began casting faster, harsher spells.

"I wasn't," he called in between blocking another hex, "trying," he huffed, throwing a disarming spell that missed "to hurt him!"

Hermione wasn't interested in his confession. Ron was lying on the ground, while Draco had that annoying, pleased, smirk plastered to his face. He wouldn't get away with hexing Ron without repercussions. After Hermione threw an electrification charm, his stance changed. He wasn't ready for the real spells she was about to throw.

His blond hair had grown longer since their time in the manor, and the sweat from the underground library mixed, with the effort he was giving to keep spells from hitting him, was plastering the hair to his forehead. Not used to the feeling, his hand flinched towards the bothersome hair. Taking advantage of the millisecond distraction, Hermione threw a limb-buzzing charm, hitting him directly on his wand arm.

Hermione stood up as the wand clattered to the floor. Draco's arm went limp, but his pride wouldn't let him stand by and accept defeat. His arm hanging limp by his side, he began to charge. Hermione had yet to see Draco make any aggressive move that wasn't magical, and there was nothing that could prepare her for the six-foot-something man that was barreling towards her.

Throwing her arms up at the elbow, she tried to block as much of the impact as she could- unfortunately, that left her head unprotected. As soon as he made contact, they were both knocked to the ground and Hermione's head bounced on the hardwood.

Draco hadn't thought this far into the fight. She was trapped underneath him, but he wasn't about to begin throwing punches. Her eyes began to water, and he instantly felt guilty. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He was just mad, and bloody hell, the woman had just electrified him.

Moving off of her quickly, he retrieved her wand whispering his apologies and hoping that she was listening to them. The wand was much different than his- it was made of Vine wood instead of Hawthorn, but roughly the same size. The wand was fighting him, but he conjured a counter spell for his wand arm's recovery without too much trouble.

Hermione looked ready to murder him. Approaching her cautiously, as one would an angry dog, she allowed him to perform a healing spell on her head.

He moved her hair to the front of her shoulder unnecessarily, hoping the sensitive gesture may calm her down, even if just a little, and tentatively put his wand to the back of her head, effectively curing the wound.

Instead of catching her breath after her head had cleared as Draco had hoped, Hermione began swearing at Draco. Every time he thought she was finished, she would begin another round of verbal assaults. After a crafty insult of Draco being as cruel as a Dementor and as daft as a troll, the forgotten red-head on the floor began to stir.

Before Hermione could stop him, he knocked Ron out once more. This time, Draco had the decency to keep a straight face.

"That's assault on an Auror, Malfoy!" she yelled, smacking her wand out of his hand to keep him from further assault. "Do you want to spend your life in Azkaban?"

The wand clattered to the floor, and Draco immediately dropped his stance and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. "I need to modify his memory, Hermione."

"And why would I let you do that?" she asked, feigning strength even though she felt just as tired as he was.

He looked at her as if she were daft. "Oh, I don't know," he bit out sarcastically, while straightening himself up, "maybe because an Auror just saw the entrance to one of the most extensive libraries for banned books in all of Great Britain? Honestly, do you not care about my freedom? Why would you even bring him here?"

"You have  _got_  to be kidding me. You attacked Ron!" she yelled. "And looked happy about it!" she added.

"How are you blaming this on me? This is your fault. Had you just told me afterward, instead of smirking like a fool, we could have avoided this entire mess!" Hermione huffed.

Letting her words sink in, and her temper die down, she continued. "Just let him wake up. He won't tell if I ask him not to. No memory charm needed. Problem solved."

Trying not to start another fight, Draco approached his words carefully. "Hermione, they take vows," he said eyeing the unconscious body, worrying about his charm's effectiveness. Exhaustion could change the outcome of spells, and Draco was concerned the charm may not last much longer. He sped up his words and got straight to the point. "I don't know what their vows are exactly, but I can't jeopardize my family in hopes that he stays quiet."

Hermione's face changed its expression nearly ten times within the seconds of her searching for a solution. On one hand, Ron was her friend, and it wasn't fair for her to mess with his memories. On the other, she cared for Draco. She couldn't ignore she would be taking a risk allowing Malfoy's fate to to be left up to Ron's will. There was always a chance that Ron would turn them in, perhaps in good faith that they would take the artifacts and not the owners. It wasn't likely the Malfoy's possessions would be taken without a prison sentence for the owners. But again, Ron was her friend, and it would be breaking multiple friendship codes to modify his memory against his will.

Reaching a decision, she reached down and picked up her wand. Draco made a move to stop her, but she put up her hand to stop whatever he was about to say.

"If this has to be done, then  _I'm_ going to do it."

He lifted his hands, but looked relieved she wasn't going to put up any more of a fight. He didn't know how much more fighting he could handle. He watched her through slitted eyes, making sure she kept her word and didn't perform a quick rejuvenation charm. His concerns were short-lived, and Hermione began the charm as she said she would.

Draco was surprised she was willing to go through with it. It was always a team effort back at Hogwarts. The 'Golden Trio' Draco became accustomed to would never do something like this to a friend.

And now she was the one to cast the spell.

_Maybe she doesn't trust me not to hurt him_ , he thought. To his amusement, he hadn't even thought to hurt the Weasel. Or perhaps she was following through with his demands because he had become just as important as the other two members of the trio.

Was it possible that she cared for him as much as them? Even after he had spent so much time at school tormenting her and trying to keep her away? It was a good possibility. The revelation left a strange feeling in his stomach.

Hermione looked up from her work for a moment, glaring at him for hovering over her work, but changed her expression once she saw his face. There was a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

He no longer looked smug, or angry, or even concerned. He looked… happy? Not elated. Just… happy.

Hermione's look went unnoticed by the young man zoning out.

Hermione finished the charm without any concerns. She had perfected it over the years, and didn't see the need to concern herself over the things that could go wrong.

While Hermione was kneeling the blood was having a hard time circulating to her lower legs, and as she stood, the blood went rushing downwards, causing her to lose balance.

The motion took Draco from his thoughts. He threw his hands on her waist to keep her from falling. Hermione pressed her hand firmly on his chest to stable herself, but the position left her brain fuzzy, and all the feelings from the future came rushing back.

His touch.

His gentle hold on her.

The feeling of his heart beating... It all felt familiar.

He felt the connection too.

He knew the feelings he was experiencing were a side effect of the chain he held in Hogsmeade, but he couldn't help feeling them. And at this moment, he couldn't feel anything but his heart racing and the tender hand placed on top of it. It felt so familiar.

It felt like love.

And he wanted more.

He trailed his hand up her back and rested it on the side of her face, holding it still with a light grip. There was nothing he ever wanted more than what he was feeling at this moment.

His face was now low enough that their noses were touching and his mint breath was brushing her lips. Her eyes moved between his lips and his eyes. They were nearly a charcoal colour, with light specks of silver in them. Hermione moved even closer, nearly closing the gap.

She might hate herself for this later, but she worried the feelings were remnants of attraction to the future Draco. After thinking things through, she hesitantly moved away from him, stopping their would-have-been first kiss. The almost-kiss reminded her of the kiss she had seen in the pensieve, and if she wanted to separate the two versions of him, than she couldn't be thinking of those memories.

Taking a step back, Draco nodded his head. He couldn't help feeling slightly put out. He tried flirting with her just over an hour ago, and this was the second time his advances were thwarted.  _Maybe she's just not interested_ , he resolved.

Draco cleared his throat, and walked past Hermione. "I'll be in my study if you need me."

"Wait!" Hermione called. "Stay with me until he wakes up?" She didn't want him to leave- especially after their moment. It would just make things more uncomfortable than they were before.

Nodding his head, he went to sit on the sofa.

It didn't take Ron much longer to wake up, dizzy and disgruntled.

"You fainted," Hermione spoke up rushing to his side. She brushed his hair away from his face, a maternal gesture she knew Ron would be comforted by.

"Do you want Draco to apparate you home?" she asked.

Both men groaned at the offer.

"Well, I'm not going to let you apparate yourself in your condition," Hermione chastised. "You could lose a limb."

Propping himself into a sitting position, Ron squinted and looked around. "How long have I been out?"

"Not long," she responded, hoping the answer was vague enough to leave some room for improvising if need be.

"When did Malfoy get here?" he asked, while his hand flinched towards his wand in his pocket.

"A few minutes ago," she answered rather fast. "Look Ron, I think you need to go home and get some sleep, you hit the ground pretty hard."

"I do feel a little hazy," he confessed.

Not bothering to brush himself off, he untangled himself from Hermione's concerned grasp and walked to the fireplace, pointing to it awkwardly. "I'm just going to, uh, take the floo home," he said, shaking his head a bit and grabbing a handful of the grey powder from the bowl on top of the mantel. "The burrow," he commanded, throwing the powder at his feet.

Taking in a deep breath, Hermione sat on the chair adjacent to Draco's seat and summoned the book from her bag and began reading.

Draco was exhausted from the day's events, but not tired enough to hold his eye roll. "Can I at least know what you're reading if you're going to keep me here? Mum's none too pleased it's missing," he said, kicking off his shoes. "I'm guessing it's her favourite book," he speculated.

Hermione didn't move her face away from the book, but her eyebrows lifted and her eyes tilted towards Draco. The look reminded him of Mcgonagall.

"I seriously doubt your mother is interested in the book itself. She's probably just put off by  _who_  is reading it." Placing her thumb on the page to hold its place, she sighed. "Malfoy Traditions and Customs."

"What?" he asked, only half listening. After placing his shoes underneath the couch, her words caught up to him. It was one of the oldest books in the library concerning his family. Draco sat up a little straighter. "What would you want with that dull thing?"

"So you've read it?" she asked. She knew Future-Draco had read it, but there was a lot of time between then and now.

"Of course I've read it," he scoffed. "It's a mandatory read by the time we leave for school." Shifting his position and putting his feet on the couch to face her better, he asked again. "Really, that book wasn't even interesting to me, why would you want to read it?"

"I didn't know you could read," she mumbled, with a hint of a smile gracing her lips.

"I read plenty," he said dryly, not appreciating the joke. "I just don't go snooping in people's libraries for the least interesting literature."

Letting out a giggle, Hermione conceded. "You're right, it is pretty dull. It's more for research."

"What are you researching?" For the men, the book was mostly about the various ways court a women. And for the women, it explained the all the "sacred 28" family courting methods. But mostly the book was trash, most customs were outdated, the majority of the stories were upsetting, and most of the spells hadn't been used for over a century.

"Marriage bonds," she said, locking eyes with him.

His eyes didn't waver. He waited a few moments for her to elaborate, but when she didn't, he put his guard up. He had forgotten they existed until now, and they were one of the most outdated practices in the book. But still, those passages were hidden to outside readers. They weren't meant for the eyes of anyone but a Malfoy.

"Let me guess," he said, steadying his gaze once more, "future-me told you how to unlock that chapter?"

"Actually," Hermione smirked. "While we weren't talking for those two weeks, I broke the enchantment. Feel free to take the book back. I read the passages on marriage bonds twice now. These past two days I've just been reading your ancestors first hand experiences of them."

There was no point getting angry over something that was already done, and truthfully, Draco wasn't sure he had the energy to fight her about invading his family's privacy.

He shook his head a little and moved further down on the couch to lie down. Closing his eyes, he mumbled, "If my parents found out you know even a fraction of my families secrets that you really know, they would kill you and make it look like an accident."

Hermione didn't take the words lightly. "And you? What do you think?"

"I think-" he sighed. "I think you know too much... but that's who you are. You're a know-it-all," he joked, peeking one eye open to see her reaction.

Hermione was relieved he wasn't going to tell his parents, and was even more relieved he didn't seem to care about how much she knew.

"Do you think you would ever do something like this?" she asked, gesturing to the book.

Draco had never really thought about it. He knew the bonds were incredibly special to the Malfoy family at one point in time. Even after arranged marriages were out of date, the tradition of bonding lingered longer than most other families. And when they were completed by a willing couple, it enhanced all feelings towards each other. To Draco, it had never seemed like a reasonable thing to suggest to someone he would be betrothed to.

Draco tilted his head from left to right, trying to decide on how to explain himself. "Probably not. I would have to trust and love that person completely... without any doubts." It wasn't that he didn't want that kind of love, but after the war no one seemed to want to date him- except Eileen for a fleeting moment. Eileen was beautiful, but incredibly naive.

_No,_ he thought.  _There's no chance of that kind of trust after the war._

Hermione smiled sadly. This was the curse for her to bear. She knew the future she could have had with him, and she had no idea if she could ever have that with someone again.

Opening his eyes once more, he saw a raw look of sadness etched on her face. He thought he had said the right thing, but perhaps it was just the day getting to her. Either way, he couldn't think of anything to say to comfort her. He was never good with comforting people. Attempting to make her feel better, he shifted closer to the back of the couch and patted the spot in front of him.

Hermione shut her book and moved to his couch, laying down in front of him. She couldn't help the next question that passed through her lips. "Do you think you will ever love someone enough?"

Her words spread warmth throughout his body. Every inch of him was fighting the urge to wrap his arms around and her close the gap between their bodies. He quickly shook the feeling. He didn't love Granger. Hell, he didn't even know her favourite colour. It must be all this talk about the bonds in close proximity to a woman. After all, they were known to create familiarity and enhance sex.

He decided to dodge the question. "Do you think you could?"

He could hear the smile in her voice when she answered. "I know I could."

"You know that these bonds aren't a spur of the moment decision, right?" he asked, suddenly skeptical on whether she had actually decoded the enchantment and read the chapters.

Hermione knew she must have sounded silly to him. "I know a lot of people who were in arranged marriages with bonds would commit suicide to rid themselves of their partner. It's a lifelong commitment. I know that. But if both parties are willing… I can't imagine a better way to show lifelong devotion." Hermione yawned and let out a slight laugh. "Plus, it has some perks. Don't you think?"

Draco felt a wave of heat flash all over his body from the innuendo, and once more had to mindfully restrain himself from moving closer.

_Oh_ …  _She definitely read it._


	18. The Villa

The ministry seemed darker lately, Ron noticed. Nearly as dreary as it had when Voldemort had been controlling it. Everyone was moving fast through the grand hallway. The ceilings felt like they could nearly touch the sky, but even if they did touch the sky, none of that sunshine could break through the stone walls. Taking in a deep breath he sat on a nearby bench. People watching was the second worst part of the job, the first being paperwork.

He signed up to be an Auror to take out the bad guys... to duel them… to be where the action is- not to take Polyjuice and watch hundreds of wizards and witches pass him on their way to work. The only parts that made this more enjoyable than paperwork were the moments he'd lose himself in his own thoughts.

There was a raid today, but after fainting at Malfoy Manor he'd been feeling out of sorts. His supervisor took notice and deemed him unable to work on major projects for the next few weeks, which kept him away from anything interesting.

The grotesque "Magic is Might" statue of the pure-bloods crushing the Muggles had been torn down immediately after the war. But things were slow to get done around the ministry, and there had yet to be a replacement. All that remained was a large, ugly concrete opening in the middle of the hall. It may not be evil like the last piece, but not having a replacement made everything look dreary. Ron was in no way a patron of the arts, but he hoped a fountain or statue would return the place to how he remembered it as a child- or at least keep him from thinking about the concrete hole that separated the tiles from connecting.

Ron decided he needed to stop thinking about the decor before he started designing a replacement himself. Instead, he pulled out a newspaper and pretended to read. His hands were uncomfortable to look at. Where the robes weren't concealing him, age spots were covering his pasty-white skin.

He knew who he was supposed to be- a well respected pure-blood who hadn't taken part in either war, but was also well known to be anti-Muggle and anti-Muggle-born. He was at least a hundred and something, and spent little time outside of his house. That meant if he were going to pretend to be this man, the Aurors knew they would need to have a good cover for being in a public place. For today, the excuse was his granddaughter needed to file a claim, and he got winded after walking this far, so he sat down.

It wasn't too far of a stretch, he supposed; The man's granddaughter would need to file a claim. She just wasn't here today. She was in Hogsmeade, assisting some of the other shopkeepers whose stores were destroyed. If the man's granddaughter hadn't been endangered by the attack on Hogsmeade, there wasn't a chance in hell he would have allowed the Aurors to use his body to take down the attackers.

But it had happened, and Ron was stuck with this body for now.

"That's strange... I received my invitation last week," said an annoyingly familiar voice rung out over the crowd.

"They must have forgotten mine," a groggy, deep voice replied. Ron scanned the crowd. He'd remember those voices anywhere.

He set the newspaper on the spot next to him, and pretended to struggle getting up from his bench. Ron wasn't used to being this short, and even after he stood, there were too many people in his way to see past them. Ron pushed through the crowd, earning dirty looks, and returning them with equal vigor. He was an old man at the moment, and no one was moving out of his way.  _What happened to respecting your elders?_ Ron thought. He listened harder, attempting to locate them by sound, and quickly spotted them through the ugly clearing at the center of the room.

"What a jerk. It's not fair to exclude some people and invite others," Goyle complained while taking a bite out of a sweet.

Ron had to break character for a few moments if he was going to reach them by the time they got to the elevator. Using his discretion, he jogged for a few steps, earning surprised looks he brushed off.

"Goyle! Parkinson!" Ron called, trying to sound like an older man.

His voice stopped them on a dot. Turning around, Pansy gave a smile Ron could only assume was fake while Gregory grimaced.

Ron's mission was to listen for anything suspicious, and the Malfoys had been clear the person responsible for rebellion wouldn't receive an invitation. Goyle was the only lead they had thus far, and Ron needed to get more intel.

"Hermione, don't go," Draco objected. He was leaning against the frame of the doorway, only giving half of an effort to block her exit. He was attempting to look unbothered by her decision to leave, but Hermione knew his demeanor was a facade. She also knew that showing any interest in her whereabouts was paining him.

He had been suggesting creative, yet unmoving, reasons she shouldn't leave all week. Hermione didn't want to hurt him, but she needed to get out for a while. She hadn't been away from the Malfoys since she left Hogwarts three months ago, and she needed to spend some time away from them.  _It's only going to be a weekend trip,_  Hermione thought. A weekend was all that was permitted anyways.

"Look, Blaise isn't even allowed to floo anyone- let alone leave," Hermione reminded for what felt like the hundredth time while packing a pair of jeans into her suitcase. Without looking at Draco, Hermione took a few shirts out of her dresser and threw them on the bed. "Out of all the people Blaise requested, I'm the only one granted permission to see him. I can't just…" she trailed off while checking her list once more, "let him suffer alone."

She turned around after a few moments of silence, but Draco had already left the room.

She wasn't sure what she had hoped to see when she turned around. Perhaps she hoped he would be understanding, or maybe she hoped he would drop his guard and tell her exactly how he felt. She knew the latter was practically impossible. He had been trying to conceal his emotions of the matter all week, and she knew he wasn't going to stop now.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione sat on the bed. She knew how tough it was to be cooped up all day- she'd been living like that as long as Draco had- but Blaise's isolation was worse. There were no teachers allowed in his home, no friends, no family. All Blaise had was his mother, but only because she lived there as well. Even so, Hermione doubted she stayed cooped up in the house with Blaise all day.

Draco had the elves and his parents to talk to, and he could always floo someone… if he wanted. She knew all his friendships were running thin, but he could always try to mend them, right? Either way, she promised she would visit Blaise, and she planned on keeping her word.

Hermione went to pick up her suitcase, but a loud pop filled the air startling Hermione midway towards her bag.

"Misses, Master Draco sent me to get your things," Daisy the house elf cheered, smiling proudly.

 _Draco sent her just to spite me,_ she thought, internally rolling her eyes. Hermione picked up the heavy bag, knowing the act was going to start a fight. Instead of allowing Daisy to get hurt, Hermione quickly intervened. "Daisy, it would make me really happy if you were to just go back to whatever you were doing before this."

"But misses, I wasn't doing anything," she frowned, wondering why Hermione never allowed her to do anything.

"I'll be getting my own bag," Hermione rushed while walking out the door. "You're free to do as you please." She hoped that the quick departure would keep Daisy from crying, but there was no way in hell that she was going to allow the house elf to carry her bag.

Arriving in the library, she suddenly felt very alone. She knew Draco was too upset to see her out, even if he tried to act as though it wasn't. There was no use wasting time, the floo would only be open a short while longer. Taking a handful of the powder from the bowl above the mantel, Hermione stepped in the fireplace.

She enunciated clearly, remembering the story of Harry's mishap, and commanded the network, "La Luce Castle."

Hermione arrived in a brightly lit room with walls coloured a vibrant shade of green. It seemed to be their dining hall- a strange place for a fireplace to be connected to their floo. Taking a step in, she heard a screech of a chair and saw Blaise running towards her.

He looked more than just happy to see her.

He looked desperate.

She felt sorry for him, and at the same moment, he embraced her as if his life depended on it. The impact made her drop her bag. Wrapping her arms around him, she realized how much she missed him as well. He smelled like cologne and firewhiskey.

She moved her hands from his shoulders to his hands, took a step backwards, and looked him in the eyes. "Blaise," Hermione started, "please don't say you've been self-medicating."

She remembered Draco self-medicating in the future, but with cigarettes. She had trouble understanding why they would harm their bodies in such a way- especially Blaise. He was the rational one. The one she depended on to be reasonable and collected. Looking at him now only drove her to pity him more.

Isolation was a bitch, she knew that, but this was just a poor escape from reality. Hermione knew that only being able to communicate with one person was difficult. She knew that from when she and Harry were stuck camping alone together during the war. But everything is temporary.

"It's just a morning drink is all, Hermione. B-Besides, there's not much else to do around here," Blaise answered, trying, and failing, not to slur his words.

In truth, for the first few weeks he spent most his time riding his broomstick in the house. There was only so much riding he could do within the walls of the villa before he got bored though, and after that he turned to drinking to kill time.

"Th- there's nothing to do here, Hermione. You guys-s in the Muggle world have that telly, but I'm afraid we... don't have much here."

His sentence was disjointed, and Hermione wasn't foolish enough to think that it had just been a 'morning drink'. Hoping to find him a shower to clean himself off, and wash away some of the drunkenness, Hermione asked, "Blaise, where's your bathroom?"

Catching onto why Hermione wanted to take him to the bathroom, he twirled Hermione around and changed the subject. "You truly look lovely today," he said, not letting go of her hands, but leaning backwards to see her fully. "What would you like to do first? We can have lunch if you'd like, or I can show you around the villa. There's plenty… F-for you to see! Lots of one-of-a-kind artifacts."

Letting go of Blaise's hands, Hermione changed her angle. "Blaise, either you take a shower, or I'm leaving."

"Hermione, I don't know how many times you've been drunk, but a measly shower isn't going to fix me right now," he said, trying to sound serious. Hermione's look proved he was only failing at the attempt.

"It's just," he sighed. "I don't feel human without you guys. It's… it's miserable here! Mum leaves in the morning- doing whatever she does, and I'm stuck here alone. Even when she's here, she is always doing something or making plans to leave."

Hermione felt sorry for him, but she didn't want to spend what time she had here with him drunk. "Do you have any sober up potions?"

He didn't.

Exasperated, Hermione took a seat at the table. There was no time like the present to update him on everything that was going on. Even as drunk as he was, he was still a great listener. She told him about her ignoring Draco for over a week, and how he defended her when they nearly kicked her out. She even told him about the memory charm, knowing Blaise wouldn't betray her.

"And you two thought it would be a good idea to modify Ronald's memory?" Blaise asked, balling his hands in fists above the table. "That's ridiculous, you could both be sent to prison! How could he endanger you like that?"

"It wasn't like that!" Hermione corrected, irritated at the accusation that Draco purposefully brought her into the mess. "I did the charm myself because I know Ron would forgive me if he found out."

"Well if it were me, I would have knocked you out along with Weasley… then I would have done the spell myself. It's dangerous business attacking an Auror. Even you wouldn't get away with it, Hermione, and that's saying something."

He sighed, loosening his fists. There was no use of being angry about it. What's done is done, and he couldn't do anything to change that fact. Sometimes he wondered how Draco could be so selfish to include others in his problems.

"It's just not fair for him to bring you into his family's issues.”

"Whose family issues?" a song-full voice cut into their conversation.

"Oh Hermione, how wonderful it is to see you again," she said, dropping her weighty shopping bags on the nearest chair. "Blaise has been waiting for this visit for a long time now."

She gave Hermione a wink and headed towards them. Hermione was surprised she had spent enough time with her son to know that she was coming today. And even more surprised that she knew he was looking forward to the visit. From what Hermione understood, she was never here.

She reached from behind over the chair, giving her son a hug and planting a kiss on his cheek. Almost undetectably, Blaise blushed at the greeting. It seemed his mother was trying to embarrass him.

"No drink in your hand?" she jabbed at her son playfully. She grinned while looking between the two teens at the table. The first time Hermione saw Blaise's mother, she had been distraught about her son being in Azkaban. She was beautiful that day, but with this carefree smile, she was even more stunning. It almost made Hermione envious.

She quickly shook the thought. Inner beauty is what truly mattered.

Blaise gave her a sideways glare, but ignored the comment. "Are you hungry, Hermione?"

She was. She left the manor just before lunchtime and now it was four in the afternoon. She nodded, and he left to cook dinner.

_And then there were two._

His mother smiled at Hermione. "After he left Azkaban he gave the house elves the option to leave, but who would have known that they actually wanted to leave?" she said with a light chuckle.

Hermione resisted the urge to say "me" and let the matriarch continue. "'It's really a shame, because he offered to pay them. I guess they were afraid he would go back on his word. And there's not that many free house elves to interview. Plus, now we're stuck with the cooking and cleaning," she said, as if it were a terrible fate. Hermione doubted that the woman lifted a finger to cook or clean.

Upon seeing Hermione's dull look, she corrected herself. "Blaise is the one who does most of the work." She shrugged. "I think you've been a great influence in his life, don't get me wrong, but he's just not a good cook."

"And you assume he did all of this because of me?" Hermione asked, toying with the silverware set in front of her.

"Why of course dear," she said, tilting her head to the side slightly. "He's in love with you, and you are all about those 'house elf rights', are you not?"

'He's in love with me?' She thought, confused on how his mother had made that jump. They hadn't even been on a date. Hermione attempted to clarify that he couldn't possibly be in love with her.

"Mrs. Zabini, Blaise and I are just-" she said, but was cut off Blaise exiting the kitchen.

"Would either of you like tea while we're waiting?" he asked, oblivious to the conversation taking place.

Both women nodded. A few minutes into waiting for tea, Mrs. Zabini noticed Hermione's bag lying near the fireplace. "Oh!" she exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat. "Let me show you to your room. Blaise must have drank one too many to forget his manners like that."

"Uh?" was all Hermione could get out. She wasn't used to someone caring so much about a suitcase left on the floor. At the Burrow there was always catching up to do before making their way to their assigned rooms, and even the Malfoys wouldn't openly fuss over a bag. Although, that was probably due to the fact they kept house elves who made it their life's mission to keep up with their pristine image.

Hermione was surprised the woman even knew about his drinking habits. It was also concerning the woman knew he was drinking early in the day and didn't seem phased. Which led to Hermione's next question. "Mrs. Zabini, isn't Blaise's drinking a little concerning?"

The woman smiled at Hermione, a smile she couldn't bring herself to return. "No, not particularly," she answered. "The Zabini's come from a long line of drinkers. My side of the family of course. I never took the last name of a man," she said proudly, her chestnut eyes glistening with mischief.

Hermione wasn't sure if she was proud about the drinking or the fact that she refused to take a husband's last name.

"Blaise's father met a tragic end when he was very young, and at that point I hardly remember being interested in his family's history," she said with a giggle. "But his father was a drinker, that's for sure. During our Hogwarts years, we would have massive parties in the Slytherin common room," she said, dramatically throwing her arms wide. "He always prided himself in being the one who could drink the most… Although, he could never beat me." Hermione doubted her statement. After all, women typically can't handle as much alcohol as men, but she refrained from commenting.

"My other husbands rarely touched the stuff," she recalled, not putting much emotion into the thought. "They were much more interested in looking like hard working businessmen."

Everyone knew the deaths of her husbands were suspicious, and although the women didn't give Hermione the vibe of a killer, she'd seen war. War taught her one life lesson above all- Anyone was capable of anything. The women kept the conversation light, even when speaking about the dead. She would give her credit to that. But remembering the rumors of her husbands' deaths left Hermione chilled.

They stopped at a door covered in magazine cutouts of famous Quidditch players wearing red and white. She recognized the large emblem plastered on the center of the door as the symbol for the English Nationals.

If Mrs. Weasley had allowed her children to decorate their doors, Hermione had inkling they would look similar to this. Hermione turned around when the woman cleared her throat and noticed the unmarked door on the right. Letting Hermione enter first she explained it was the guest bedroom Blaise requested for her to sleep in.

It was a beautiful room, with long yellow drapes that pooled onto the floor ever so slightly, and a full-sized canopy bed. It wasn't as large as the Manor's guest room, but it was nothing to scoff at either. Opening her suitcase on the dresser, she began unpacking. Mrs. Zabini laid face down on the bed, comfortable watching Hermione work.

"You have very pretty hair," she complimented while folding her hands underneath her chin.

"More like a bird’s nest," Hermione mumbled. It was a comment that she often overheard while she was a child. And from then on, it was the first thing she thought about when anyone would comment on her hair.

"I don't think so," she replied, swinging her legs in an oddly childish manner. "Sure, it could use a tune up, but I can see the charm."

Before Hermione could respond, the woman changed the subject again. Hermione decided that skipping from one topic to another was simply her personality. Perhaps it ran in the family.

"We're going to really enjoy having you here, I can tell." She smiled genuinely, looking at Hermione through the mirror that sat atop the dresser.

"I think I'm going to like it here." The words tumbled out of her mouth- which sent her into an analytical panic over them.

Would she like it here? Perhaps. She liked being in Blaise's company, and although his mother had the quirk of being chipper even when talking about somewhat dark topics, she didn't seem evil.

She began comparing her latest housing experience to this one. So far, it seemed less like a political move and more like a friendly visit. Blaise's mother wasn't counting down the days until she left, like Narcissa. It was relaxing not to feel pressured to leave. It was a breath of fresh air from the Malfoy's atmosphere. Hermione hadn't realized until that moment just how much she had grown accustomed to the hostile environment.

She finally gave Blaise's mother a smile. She knew her time here would be pleasurable.

They left the bedroom in a rush to get to their tea before it got cold. Blaise was already sitting at the table. Upon entering the room, he began pouring it from the kettle into the tea cups.

He finished just as Hermione reached her chair, and giving a comically formal bow, he pulled out her chair for her.

"I see you've remembered your manners," Blaise's mother commented while eyeing the two across the table.

"Thank you for showing me to my room, Mrs. Zabini," she said after sitting down and remembering her own manners.

The mother folded her hands in front of her. "Of course my dear, and please, call me Clara."

Draco sat on the hard stone in complete darkness, hunching over a candle and the Malfoy's traditions book. He'd read all the words before, but had never actually studied them. The emptiness in his chest seemed to go away, even if just a tiny bit, while reading the book. It was the last thing Hermione had read in her time here, and he was attempting to analyze how she might have perceived the book while reading it.

The cubby was just as uncomfortable as it had been his entire life. The next time he thought about it, he promised himself he would buy a nice comfy lounger for the room. Although they called it a room, it was more like a walk in closet. It wasn't a nice space to sit in, but when Hermione left… He just needed some solitude, and perhaps a little security.

The hiding space was the first place he thought to go once he felt her leaving the protective wards of the manor. Maybe he wanted to enhance his sour mood. Being stuck in the hidden room would surely do that. But why did he want to feel like that? Shutting the book, he pondered over that thought for a while.

He ran a hand through his almost-white hair and took a deep breath.  _Why can't I bring myself to leave?_ He'd been in there for nearly half the day. Both house elves attempted to persuade him to attend dinner, but Draco turned them down. Instead he opted to eat his meal within the confines of the small space. At some point, he'd have to venture back to his bedroom to sleep, but he wasn't quite ready to leave his prison yet.

 _Why do I feel so miserable without her?_  He wondered, tucking his knees close to his torso.


	19. The Clouds

Hermione bolted upright in the bed. For a moment she had forgotten where she was and last night's events.

She delicately removed the arm draped over her. If she had moved her face even an inch closer, she would have kissed Blaise in her sleep.

She pulled the blanket closer to her chest and took in a deep breath. It was just Blaise, she reasoned. He was her friend, and even if a mishap had happened, she had made her intentions clear a month ago. He knew she wasn't looking for anything more than friendship.

She made her way over to the dresser, picked her suitcase up off the floor, and placed it on the dresser. A sharp creek escaped the drawer from the wood on wood contact. She looked over at her friend. His arm was stretched over the now-empty space, but he wasn't awake. She sighed in relief.

After she finished packing, she left to make breakfast. She hadn't cooked since summer, and although she didn't pride herself on being a great cook, it was refreshing to have the option.

The prior day Blaise had taken her on a tour around the house. He hadn't lied when he said there were interesting artifacts in their house. There were statues, books, various pottery, even simple objects like stones and coins… some were even non-magical. It was an impressive collection, and Blaise knew the history behind all of them. She knew he was smart, but he was even able to answer the abstract questions she asked.

She thought back to the conversation they had before bed.

" _Draco's promised to tell me everything he knows about the rebels the day before the ball. I even threw a tickling hex at him- he was curled in a ball for ten minutes- but he still refused to tell me anything about what's going on."_

" _He's a stubborn one," Blaise chuckled. "Has he asked you to the ball yet?"_

" _No. I don't expect him to."_

" _I wish I could take you," he said, flipping over to face her. "You're too beautiful to go alone."_

_She grabbed his hand and smiled. He always made her feel precious._

Draco sat in front of the fireplace of the study. He'd finished the book he was reading, and was waiting for the hole in the wall to spark green at Hermione's arrival.

He missed her, but he would never admit it out loud. Waiting for her to come home should be enough proof that he cared.

The floo would only be open for ten minutes, and there was only three minutes left.

_She's really pushing her time limit,_ he thought. He began tapping his fingers on the armrest and counting the seconds in his head.

Hermione appeared in the fireplace with her bag at the last possible second. Her cheeks were rosy, and it looked as though she had done her hair differently. She let out a sigh, and the large grin she had entered the house with was fading rapidly.

Draco watched her through slitted eyes. She looked like she really enjoyed her time away. Sure, the situation wasn't ideal, but he hadn't seen her smile like that during her entire stay here.

He needed her much more than she needed him, and right now, that was the last thing he wanted to realize.

He expected to feel better once he saw her. He had felt so empty when she left, and although he didn't feel empty now, he couldn't say he felt much better.

She noticed him before her excitement completely faded and directed part of her lingering smile towards him.

He felt a chill run up his spine. He didn't want the remains of whatever made her happy- he wanted her happiness to be because he was there, taking time out of his day to greet her.

He hadn't been there when she left for Blaise's house, but he was here now. So why wasn't she excited to see him? Did she even miss him?

"How was it?"

"It was… very relaxing," she said, sitting down in the chair diagonally from him. "I think I'm going to stay with them once I'm officially kicked out of here."

Blaise offered for her to move in once the Malfoys finally kicked her out, and living with the Zabinis a logical choice. Plus, it would only be temporary... she only needed a place until she could afford a place of her own. She unconsciously smiled at the thought.

He thought back to their conversation at dinner over a month ago. She hadn't denied having feelings for Blaise. Did she like him? If she returned his feelings, where did that leave him in all this? Did she finally realize he wasn't any good for her? If that were the case, at least he would be a hundred percent positive she wasn't confusing the real him with his doppelgänger from the future.

"You're moving in with Blaise?"

"I won't have anywhere else to go," she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

"What about Hogwarts?" If he was just a last resort, anywhere would be better than staying with  _him._

"There's no reason to go back there." She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

He waited a few seconds for an elaboration, but it seemed like she was purposefully being short.

"No reason to go back? Really Hermione? You're not going to miss your teachers?" No... he needed to remind her of something really special… "What about the library!?"

She rolled her neck towards him and opened her eyes. It seemed like their roles had reversed in her time away. Since when did he lecture her about school?

"I'll miss all of those things, but I won't have any friends if I go back now. I'll just be a war survivor for underclassmen to oogle at- it'll be distracting."

"And what if I asked you to stay here?" he asked. It was shameless, but he needed to know she was moving in because it was truly a last resort, and not because she was in love with Blaise.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your parents would never allow that."

"Okay," he sighed heavily while twisting his fingers. "Let's say I have enough money to afford a flat. Would you still live with Blaise?"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and sat up.  _Would I still want to live with Blaise? Is he asking me to choose between him and Blaise?_  she thought. If she didn't know any better, she would think he was jealous. But why would he be jealous?

"Why are you so against it?" she asked.

"It's a just a question," he said, crossing his arms. "I'm just wondering if you'd move in with me if I asked."

Her eyes were watching him, calculating his movements. He hated her silent scrutiny. It made him second guess even opening his mouth.

"It doesn't matter I guess. It was only hypothetical anyways." He stood up and gave a curt nod. "I'm glad you made it back safely."

She wasn't going to let him leave though. She missed being with him. She missed their banter, and the feelings he brought about while they were together.

"I would," she said. "If you asked me to move in…. Draco, of course I would stay with you."

His stomach did a flip.

"Why?" he asked, refraining from turning around.

"Because you're my friend-"

"So is Blaise," he interjected. Draco turned around when he heard Hermione shuffle in her seat. Was he making her uncomfortable? No, she was standing up.

She would be lying if she didn't see the appeal in living with the Zabini's. They were accommodating, warm hosts. Not to mention Blaise had become her best friend somewhere along the way.

However….

She placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his jawline. "You mean so much to me, Draco. You should know that by now."

She was taking a risk. Hermione knew this. He asked her about moving in with him. She figured that was enough of a hint to make a move.

Perhaps he wasn't apprehensive about the whole "future" ordeal any longer.

Perhaps he saw her as the woman she wanted to be seen as.

He was looking behind her- avoiding her eyes. He didn't want to show emotion. Hermione knew this was his normal act. He wasn't exactly the mature man she had feelings for in the future, but he was changing- whether he realized it or not.

Draco wasn't pulling away. He wasn't thinking about how filthy her blood was. All he was thinking about was her smooth hands touching the stubble on his face. Her thumb was putting just enough pressure on his jaw to keep him engaged.

He leaned into her hand. He couldn't ignore the heat that was radiating from her palm. It was comforting him and leading him on all at once.

His heart felt like it might explode, and every fibre of his being was telling him to make a move.

These feelings...

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

He loved her.

He had never been in love before. Why did he have to fall for her? Of all people, why her? She was everything his parents hated- a threat to their world. She was the downfall of pure-blood society.

Yet unwillingly, unwittingly, she became part of his world.

His grey eyes peered down at her. Her front teeth were a little too large and her hair was always a mess. Plus, she didn't have any assets to speak of. But still, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Perhaps it was because of his isolation, or maybe it was because could now see she was an extraordinary girl.

Either way, he grabbed her hand and led it off his face.

Her touch was distracting, and he wanted to be in control.

Her eyes moved towards the floor when he removed his hand. Draco smirked at the look of rejection spreading over her face. She always assumed the worst when it came to him.

Draco dropped her hand and brought his up identically to how she had placed hers.

He tilted her head towards his, closed his eyes, and moved forward.

He needed this. He needed her touch... her voice... the sweet smell of vanilla surrounding him. He needed it all

"Draco, I-"

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by his lips pressing against hers. He wasn't hesitating. He wasn't holding back.

He was in control, and she didn't mind a bit.

Her lips parted, and he took the initiative to battle her tongue for control. He slid his hand from her face to her waist and gently pushed her back into her chair. She moved her legs around him so he could kneel in front of her. His elbows rested on the back of the seat. Even with the movement, his lips refused to leave hers.

He was surrounding her, and she never wanted to leave. The more he gave, the more she took. She didn't need air, she rationalized.

He pulled back a fraction and bit her lip, then dragged his mouth slowly down her neck. She threw her head onto the back of the chair and grinded her body against his. She wanted more friction.

He unbuttoned the first two buttons of her shirt, pulled down on the fabric, and sucked softly on the newly exposed skin. He pushed back into her with his hips, moving in rhythm with her.

Draco wasn't new to this, but it was the first time he'd ever done this with someone he loved. The soft moans she was giving were a new flavour, and every movement she made was unique.

There was already slight bruises forming where he had applied his lips. He was marking her as his. He needed to possess her. He wanted everyone to know she was his.

He slid his fingers south, grazing the nails along her abdomen. He wanted more. He unbuttoned her jeans and put two fingers under the waistband.

Hermione grabbed his hands, forcing him to stop his movements. Was she ready for that? Definitely not. It was all too sudden. She wanted them to take it slow… She wanted this to happen over and over again before she gave him everything.

Draco took the hint and untangled himself from her.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but would it still hold meaning if he were to tell her now? Would she believe him? She would probably account anything he confessed right now to hormones, and he didn't want a lecture right now. All he wanted was to show her how he felt.

He wanted her to know he was willing, and ready, to be hers. He wanted Hermione to let him claim her. She wasn't Blaise's. She was his… and only his.

For the rest of the afternoon, they sat around and talked, but in between talking were kisses he'd never forget- kisses he could have been sharing with her for years. That was the one thing that he caught himself thinking over and over again. Had there never been blood prejudice between them, what would have happened? Would he still have hated her?

There were plenty of things to hate her for. She was smarter than him, no use in denying it. She liked to overachieve, whereas he liked to lay back and see how things panned out. She had strong opinions on things he never thought twice about. Would he have cared about the things he always hated her for as a child?

He wondered if there was a spell like the one she used to see the future… One that would show a different universe where there was no war or prejudices. He thought that would be nice.

Hermione was lying under his arm. She looked up at him and brushed her hand across his neck. She let her fingers trail down his collarbone before dropping them to rest on her stomach.

"You're very handsome, you know," she said.

Her words made him blush. He'd never been complimented by her before. He looked away, trying to hide the flush creeping up his neck when she let out a small laugh. "Are you embarrassed?"

He grabbed a stray curl of her hair and twirled it in his fingers. "I'm just…I'm glad everything turned out this way."

She smiled fondly at him. "I'm glad, too."

She sat up and leaned under his chin, giving a small kiss on the stubble of his jaw. He grabbed the side of her face, leading her lips to his.

Draco parted her lips and moved his tongue delicately into her mouth. He wrapped a hand around her head and pulled her closer. Every kiss left him feeling weightless, as if he were flying on a broom with his eyes closed.

The hinges of the library creaked distantly, but the couple wasn't listening. Hermione pressed her fingers deeper into his sides. Her nails were short, but he could feel them through his shirt. He trailed his free hand down her back, testing her reactions.

He felt a small jolt of electricity across his lips but ignored it. It almost felt like a small buzz of static electricity. However, the next buzz wasn't so gentle and sent his head flying into the back of the couch.

His eyes snapped open after the impact. Hermione was holding her lips and staring at the door. She looked defiant, no... murderous. The look made him flinch. Who knew Hermione would get that angry over someone breaking a kiss?

Draco craned his neck towards the spell caster and immediately felt a jolt of fear in his chest. He expected it to be his mother. If it had been his mother, he could have handled it. After all, she was sure to have her suspicions about them, but him...

His father stood with his wand hand shaking. His face was balancing somewhere between repulsion and insanity, and here were sparks coming from the end of his wand.

He worked his entire life to gain his father's praise. He'd worked his entire life to be the son he wanted. Would all those years to gain his respect slip away because of this?

He loved Hermione. He did, but he didn't have time to think about the consequences of this love when he fell for her. He knew they hated her kind, but he hadn't seriously thought about how his parents would react. Now he didn't have to prepare himself.

Would his father disown him now? Was he even capable of leaving his family to be with her? He wasn't going to decide that yet- He needed more time.

Draco looked at her, then to his father. They both looked ready to murder. Draco knew he had to do something, and fast.

"Hermione, can you give us some time alone?"

A hand he hadn't seen shifted away from her wand pocket. Her dark brown eyes glared at Draco, but softened when she saw the crease in his brow.

She looked calmer but flinched at Lucius' shout. "Get out, Mudblood!"

Hermione looked like she was about to rebel, but Draco shook his head. It seemed that was enough for her to leave, but he'd have some serious making up with her to do later. Hermione's hands were balled in fists, and it didn't look like she would be calming down anytime soon.

Draco sighed internally. Whatever she had planned for him later was sure to be a terrible fate, but for now, he'd have to deal with his father.

Hermione brushed by Lucius without incident, but didn't hesitate slamming the door- one act of defiance he'd grant her a pass on.

It felt like an hour before his father lowered his wand, although the crazed look never left his eyes. It were as if he were a rabid dog, unable to change back to his original form.

"Y- and- _that Mudblood_ ," Lucius choked out.

" _It's Hermione,"_ Draco mumbled before standing and walking towards the window. It was the furthest he could get from his father in the large room. Draco pressed his head against the cool glass and waited for his father's lecture to begin.

Lucius walked across the room and sat in the desk's chair behind Draco. "This stops immediately," he stated, plainly.

Draco watched Hermione walk into their rose garden. He groaned and put his fingertips on the glass pane. _How did today end up like this?_ he wondered. He was looking forward to her coming back to the manor, and had finally decided that he needed her in his life- now they were forced to be away from each other once more.

He watched her throw a hex that turned an entire rosebush purple and smiled. She could be so dramatic sometimes.

The end of his father's cane collided with his temple. Draco staggered a few steps back from the window and collapsed to the ground.

"I will  _not_  tolerate this," his father hissed. "If I have to kick you out and keep the runt here, I'll do it. But I swear to you on my honor as a man, as long as I'm alive, you will never be sullied by such filth."

The throbbing in his head refused to disappear, no matter how much his hand put pressure on the wound. There was nothing he could do. He couldn't fight back in this position. His father had the upper hand, and it wouldn't be smart to talk back.

His father was a sick man- filled with hate, but Draco still loved him. He still wanted his respect. Draco wanted his love, but if he couldn't accept his choices… He couldn't- wouldn't change his feelings about Hermione. He loved her. No amount of beatings could fix that.

His father loomed over him, pressing his cane into Draco's cheek.

When had he stood up? Why was he so persistent? It felt like his windpipe was being crushed. If his mother was here she'd surely stop him, but he was sure she wasn't going to come to his rescue this time.

Draco wished he could live in a different world. One where he lived alone with Hermione. A world where she didn't need friends or family. They would just keep to themselves, hidden away in some cabin. Their families hated them anyways, and who needed friends? The only friend Draco had was trying to steal his girl away.

As long as he had her…

The pressure was released and Lucius' cane clattered to the floor.

Draco jolted upright and took in a breath of air. He closed his eyes and fought the bile coating his throat. One hand flew to his throat to soothe the pain, while the other clung to the floorboards for peered up at his father.

Lucius stared out the window in horror and took a step back, falling into the desk. A bottle toppled onto the floor, and black ink began pooling around the desk.

"What the hell-?"

A large shadow covered the light coming through the window, but the darkness was gone as soon as it arrived. Draco lifted himself off the ground and grasped one hand on the edge of the desk to steady himself.

He blinked the spots away from behind his eyes and gazed out the window. Hermione was no longer in sight.

"Where's Hermione?" Draco asked.

He looked towards his father. A hand was covering his face and he was mumbling a string of words Draco couldn't make out. His shoulders were slumped and shaking. The scene was familiar. It was an identical reaction to when people would face Voldemort.

"Where is she?" Draco yelled, throwing himself from the desk. He pressed himself against the window and began desperately searching for her.

She had to be there. He searched through the garden frantically for the third time before spotting her. She was in the far back of the garden near the lake, throwing charms above herself. She was crouched next to the bench, positioned like a sniper out of an action film.

She looked frightened, but not scared like his father- she looked like she was fighting for her life.

A bright green light shot into the air from her wand, and Draco's heart stopped. He'd seen that light countless times...

...At his house, in the parlour.

...In the past, countless times in battle.

...In nightmares, right before he saw the dull, milky eyes of the headmaster falling off the tower.

"Hermione?" he whispered, watching her with wide eyes. His voice was too soft to be heard by his father. It was a silent plea. He had hoped to never see that curse again in his life.

He may have imagined it, but he was sure he saw her mouth the curse. He could practically hear her saying the words in his mind. A moment later, Draco felt the wards breech.

"Draco!" his father shouted, running to the fireplace. His momentary lapse of sanity was gone. "Get underground now."

Draco couldn't do that. He needed to help Hermione. He tried to apparate, but an invisible wall blocked him.  _Looks like I'll be doing this the Muggle way,_  he thought.

He ran past his father who was connecting to the floo, no doubt attempting to call the ministry for backup.

"Get underground now!" his father screamed.

Draco swung the door open and paused. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said, shaking his head.

He began sprinting down the hall, only making it past the fourth screaming portrait before the ground underneath his feet began to rumble. A large crack in the ceiling was coming towards him

_Oh, fuck._

The ancient stones above him were breaking underneath the pressure. He took two steps backwards in a vain attempt outrun the debris, but a large piece of the second floor crumbled down in front of him.

Draco fell backwards onto his hands, scraping the palms on broken porcelain and concrete. The heavy stone wall to his right began to sway. "Dear Merlin," he said under his breath. He reached for his wand and felt the familiar wooden branch in his pocket, but there wasn't any time left. The wall was already falling towards him.

 

Hermione never thought she'd see the day where she would cast the killing curse. She wanted to say it caused a deep pain in her soul. She wished she could say it was a difficult decision.

But it wasn't. It came naturally.

It was the first spell she thought of as she saw the great beast flying over the manor. It had black scales and wings that seemed to stretch an entire football field's length. There large spikes coming out from its neck, like a deadly lion's mane.

Hermione knew instantly that there would be no outrunning the beast. Apparition was impossible, and she didn't have a broom to speak of. She was up against a Hungarian Horntail- and an angry one at that.

She placed her arms on the bench. Her wand nearly fell out of her hands. The tremors were getting worse the closer the beast came towards her. She clasped her hands together, took aim, and shot the spell right at the dragon.

She missed by a long shot. The spell didn't even come close.

She needed a moment to catch her breath and calm her heart. There wasn't a way she was going to make it out of here alive if she couldn't control her limbs. She counted down from ten out loud.

Nine...

The dragon hovering above the manor.

Eight…

Twirling in the air.

Seven…

Bucking against something.

Six…

Something must be controlling it, Hermione thought.

Five…

She prayed the dragon would snap out of whatever spell had taken hold of it.

Four...

A meaty arm wrapped around Hermione's neck. "Gotcha," the voice said. He let out a low, manic laugh. The offender's free hand dug his fingers into her wand arm until the wood dropped from her grip.

She clawed at the arm for air. He let out a hiss at the act and tightened his grip around her throat. She left long, red strips down his arm. The scraped off flesh was piling up underneath her fingernails, but she knew there was no use. He wasn't letting up.

She couldn't breath and her body was beginning to spasm uncontrollably.

Hermione saw black spots forming over her vision. Her head felt like it was pounding out of her skull.

_I'm going to die_ , she thought as she watched the dragon's long claws digging into the manor, taking half of the building down with it.


	20. Blinded

Hermione woke up on an uneven stone floor. It took a minute to remember what had happened. All she could remember was being abducted from Draco's house, but after that, her memory was fuzzy.

The room was dark, with extinguished floating candles hovering across the ten foot tall ceiling. Hermione crawled across the floor to the nearest wall, held on and stood up. The walls were rough and tilted inwards in a dome shape. She began feeling around the perimeter, keeping one hand on wall, and shuffling her feet so she wouldn't trip- at least, that's what she told herself, but even if she wanted to, she didn't think she had the energy to lift her feet.

Her hands hit cool iron bars. She was in a dungeon. "Draco?" She called out in a raspy voice. Selfishly, she hoped he would respond. She wanted him with her- trapped with her. It was an unfamiliar place, and she was scared. She waited a few moments for a reply and let out a sigh of relief. Even though she wanted him with her, she was glad he wasn't- perhaps that meant he was safe.

She felt around for the handle, but found none, and the lock was charmed shut. She let out a breath of air and began mindlessly picking at a sharp, coarse piece of metal on the bars.

It wasn't like she hadn't expected this to happen in her life. During the war she would often sit up at night wondering how many Muggle-borns had been taken captive, and if she would be next. It was something one came to expect in war. After the war ended, she hadn't thought twice about it, even with the recent events.

So far, the rebels were only attacking individual towns and homes. There had been no news about taking hostages. As far as she knew, she was the only one they had singled out.

She wondered how long she had been unconscious. The air was getting heavy and she was finding it hard to breathe. She needed to get out- she needed her wand. It took all the energy she had left to begin feeling along the floor for a trace of her wand.

She only made it one length of the cell before collapsing on the cell floor.

She had never felt this exhausted before.

As soon as she thought she was going to run out of air, the candles from the entrance were lit and she finally saw the face of her captor.

The air was poisoned, and she couldn't escape.

Draco was lying on a hard, flat surface in a room with a harsh chemical smell. He couldn't see anything, and felt a thin sheet of fabric covering his eyes. He made a move to take the cover off his eyes, but a hand reached out to stop him.

"Draco," his mother said softly. He'd seen his mother cry many times in his life, but for some reason, just hearing the soft hiccups she was trying to conceal made him want to cry himself.

"Mum?" he said, not concerned about the waver in his voice. "Is dad okay?"

There was a pregnant pause. "Is he..?"

"He'll be fine, Draco. I'm sure of it. Just, please, worry about yourself."

She was no longer crying. A good sign, Draco thought.

"A-And Hermione?" He expected Hermione to chime in at that moment. He figured she was there in the room, waiting patiently for him to recover.

"No one's found her."

His mother gave no sympathy in her words. They were dull and flat.

"Did they take her?" He needed to make sure she wasn't just left under the rubble.

"The Aurors would have found her if she were still on the property. She's gone."

He moved to take off the blindfold again, but his mother's cold hands firmly grabbed his."Draco, please, get some rest. It will take at least a week to get back to normal-"

Draco wanted to look for her. He couldn't stand the thought that she might be in danger. He knew if the goal of the rebels was the same as Death Eaters, they would already be torturing her. That thought itself was enough to make him want to start the search for her, even if he'd be leaving his recovery bed blind.

On the other hand, he was a practical man. He tried not to admit it to himself, but he couldn't help his thoughts… He was somewhat relieved he wouldn't be pressured to look for her. Draco knew he wasn't the fighting type. For Hermione though, he knew he would have to do what he could to save her.

All that he had to figure out was what would he could do. At this moment, it was impossible to do anything.

He thought of Hermione and the time they spent together, the things he wished he could go back and change, the things that made him happy, even the things that made him angry.

The thing that made him angry most recently… his mind snapped back to the present. That was the one thing he had time to do- the one thing that could help her the most.

"Mum," he said, knowing she was listening even without seeing her, "I need you to owl Ron Weasley to meet me here, and then I need you to take a trip to Diagon alley to pick up a mix of…ingredients for…." He knew Hermione had mentioned it before…. " _Procul futurae_!"

His mother seemed suspicious of his enthusiasm. She spoke in a low tone, drawing out each word. "I can go to Diagon alley, but Ron, he's an Auror, and his best friend was just kidnapped... I don't think he's going to make time for a bedside visit."

He knew that much was true- Ron would put up a struggle to meet him. They were acquaintances at best, mortal enemies at worst. But this was the only way to help Hermione right now.

Draco also suspected that even if Ron was willing to come, his mother was reluctant for her own reasons. She had never gotten along with the Aurors, and the constant raids and threats that her husband would be taken away from her, kept her involvement with the Aurors to a minimum. The only reason to call on the Aurors was if someone in the family was in dire trouble, and his mother would never consider Hermione family.

"Tell Ron I've thought of a way to help, but I need him here."

At that moment, Narcissa couldn't help but think that Draco had nearly the same personality of his father. Commanding and so sure of himself. With a tinge of sadness, she wondered why he hardly inherited any of her personality, even her looks were overshadowed by Lucius'. She knew telling Draco no would just put a strain on their already-delicate relationship.

Everything boiled down to that Hermione girl- and there was nothing she could do about it.

"I will do as you wish, but in return, I need you to promise me-"

Draco groaned.

She gave Draco a nasty glare, even if he couldn't see it, she knew he would feel it. "Promise me you're not going to put yourself in harms way."

"I can't risk my life in a hospital bed, mum."

She hoped that were the case, but that was the one thing he'd inherited from both her and Lucius- he had great lying skills. So she could never be so sure.

A few hours later, Draco heard the door open briskly and a pair of heavy boots walk to his bedside.

"What do you want, Malfoy? If you didn't know already, I'm kind of busy. You know, your house being burned to the ground and all has caused quite an uproar."

"I need to know how to do the spell you and Hermione did a few months ago."

"You called me from fieldwork to ask how to do a spell?" Ron spat. "Don't bother me with bloody nonsense, I'm trying to get Hermione back, you-"

"You really are a daft one aren't you?" Draco interrupted. "I'm going to the future to figure out where Hermione is!" He couldn't see Ron's face, but he imagined he looked something like a ripe tomato at that moment. Although, he realized it wasn't nearly as fun to tease him when he couldn't see the reaction.

"I know there's a chance that she won't be in the future, but if she is, I'll know where she is in three days time. I know the Auror's don't have the time to waste on this kind of thing, but no one else has three days to kill to do something like this."

Ron let out a long sigh and sat in the chair Narcissa had been occupying. "How are you going to get the potion?"

"I sent my mum out to get it a bit earlier."

Ron let out another long sigh. "Where's your wand?"

"If you cant see it, I imagine it smashed to bits in the attack."

"You're not going to be able to perform the spell without a stable wand. It's not a simple spell, and you'll need full compliance from your wand."

"Are you worrying about me, Weasley? I'm touched-"

"Shut up, Malfoy! I'm not going to waste my time if you can't even complete the spell!"

The chair made a screech and Draco could hear footsteps quickly departing. "Wait! I can complete it, I swear. Just show me the hand movement and tell me what to say."

Ron scrunched his nose. The last thing he wanted to do right now is hold Draco's hand to show him how to do a spell. He contemplated walking out, there wasn't much Draco could do to stop him…. But they didn't have any leads yet, and although finding Hermione was the Harry and his top priority, the other Aurors were focused on finding the rebels.

And since they attacked the Malfoy's home, there was no chance of the ball Narcissa planned to bring them out of hiding to happen. Which left their leads down to almost zero, except for perhaps Pansy Parkinson's and Crabbe's conversation, but the interrogation afterwards went virtually nowhere.

Ron pulled out his wand. "I'm giving you 30 minutes, if you can't get it by then, forget it."

Draco sat up, and waited for Ron's help. He would have to lock away his disgust for Weasley for the next thirty minutes and focus completely on the task at hand.

About an hour later, Draco had mastered spell, and shortly after that, Narcissa returned with the potion.

He took the potion from his mother and chugged its contents. Draco had a moment of doubt then. He was admittedly, a selfish person, and was unsure if he should put himself in this position; this spell could take him anywhere. It was probably natural to worry, but before he let his mind become the voice of reason, he let his emotions take over and completed the spell.

Draco landed on a bar stool that made his back ache... and he'd only just gotten there. The room was filthy enough he could see the dust caking on shelves across the room. He could practically feel his lungs being infiltrated by the unknown spores.

He hated this place, always had. The Hog's Head Inn wasn't a scene he ever wanted to be associated with. He surveyed the woman next to him. He guessed she was in her mid-thirties, and the large yellow bow atop her head made her seem like she was desperately clinging to her youth. Her red hair was cropped short, showing off a pair of small pearl earrings, and although they were real, the large breasts under the knitted sweater weren't.

The woman was ignorant to Draco's assessment, and even more oblivious to his disinterest in her meaningless babble about her shopping trip to Diagon alley.

There was no way, in any dimension, this conversation would interest him, and although he'd never been a stickler for politeness like his parents, he let her continue, hoping to at least get something worthwhile out of her chatter.

"...It was the same dress the Minister for Magic was wearing in that magazine. Remember how much you liked it?" she asked, drawing out a shrunken shopping bag from her purse.

Draco internally rolled his eyes when he saw the cheaply made pale-green and bright-pink dress.

He could admit there was a chance he was willingly talking to the busty woman in front of him, but there was no amount of change in his life that would make him think those colours looked nicely together, or that attire made for mass consumption would be acceptable attire to wear in public.

Draco smiled and ran his fingers along the fabric. "This could possibly be the ugliest dress I have ever seen."

The redhead spit out a little bit of her drink. "I- n-no," she stuttered while dabbing her face with a napkin. "Y-you tore it out of the magazine. So, I just assumed you liked it." Her curly auburn hair covered her face as she looked down at her lap to wipe fallen dribble off her skirt. "It's my fault. I'll take it back tomorrow."

Draco actually rolled his eyes this time. Of course he had this woman eating out of the palm of his hand.

"Smart witch," Draco said. "Now tell me, where can I find Hermione Granger?"

The woman let out a long drawn out "Uh" that put Draco's patients at its end. He'd have better luck interrogating a brick. He took a galleon from his pocket for the drink, set it on the counter, and left.

He had plenty of time to find Hermione, so he figured he'd find a room for the night and enjoy his renewed eyesight. But there was no way he was staying the night in the filthy rooms of the Hog's Head.

He shoved his hands into his long pea-coat and assessed his surroundings. A lot had changed from his time, most of the shoppes had switched around or changed names.

He made his way to where he hoped the Three Broomsticks should be and was pleased to find that at least that much hadn't changed. He was greeted at the counter by a man he'd never seen before with faded robes and long, droopy eyes. As luck had it, there were still a few rooms available. Draco grabbed the room key from the man at the counter and stuffed it in his pocket.

As he was going to his room, he noticed a child, no older than twelve, sitting at a corner table alone. She sat with her hands folded and her back straight. Her already-sharp eyes were scrutinizing each person's movements as they wandered. It reminded him of the looks kids at Hogwarts gave him when he walked into a room.

She had tight curls that came down to her ears, framing a face that looked already looked a little too harsh. She reminded him of someone. He just wasn't sure who.

Her dark eyes locked with his and narrowed further. Draco had an inner crisis for a moment. He knew he was either thirty or forty, and staring at a young girl in a bar probably wasn't a good idea. She either thought he had bad intentions for staring at her, or she knew who he was; he prayed for the latter.

It didn't matter either way, Draco reasoned, this wasn't his real life. He turned to leave.

"Draco?" a smooth voice called from behind him. The older lady was slightly hunched, but well dressed. She was carefully floating two drinks in front of herself, and although she looked aged, he knew exactly who she was.

"Mrs. Zabini," he said, putting on his most charming smile. "How are you?"

"I've been good," she said, moving the drinks to the side and giving him a light hug. "You look so different now," she added, frowning .

"Oh?" he said, rubbing his neck. He'd have to look at himself in a mirror, he noticed the body he was in felt different, thinner perhaps, and a little fatigued, but he had ignored it before. Draco wondered how long it had been since he'd seen her in this world.

"Look-" he started, trying to make his escape.

"Why don't you join us, Draco," she said, indicating to the corner table.

He glanced back at the young girl who was still glaring at him. "Is that Blaise's daughter?" he asked, now realizing that that must have been why she looked so familiar.

Mrs. Zabini chuckled and patted him on the arm. "Don't pretend like you've never seen her. She's the most famous child in the wizarding world right now."

He rolled his eyes. Mrs. Zabini was always overly confident in her kin. He wondered when she'd learn to quit boasting.

Draco sat down next to Mrs. Zabini as she slid the extra pumpkin juice across the table to the young girl who was looking anywhere but him.

"So, what's her-" he started to ask the elder woman, but instead looked at the girl. "Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy."

The girl crossed her arms and glared at him. "I know exactly who you are," she spat, then threw her grandmother a different, but equally angry, look. "Can we leave, Grammy?"

"Athena!" She said sharply, while casting Draco an apology glance. "Introduce yourself properly."

Draco let out a chuckle at the young girl's attitude. "She definitely didn't get the eerie calm of a Zabini."

Mrs. Zabini gave a crooked smile. "Yes, she got those traits from her mother."

Draco was about to ask who Blaise had married, but was distracted by the girl's discourteous tone. "Hi. I'm Athena Zabini, it's a  _pleasure_ to finally meet you." Her fake smile ended as soon as she finished.

Well, he thought, at least now he knew that she didn't glare at him earlier because she thought he was a creep. She must know him for being a Death Eater in the war, and honestly, it made sense that she wouldn't want to associate with him- most people didn't.

The mood didn't seem like it was going to get any better, and Draco really wasn't interested in wasting his time being uncomfortable.

"I'm going to head up to my room," he said while standing from his chair and giving a curt smile. "It was nice meeting you Athena."

"You're staying here?" Mrs. Zabini asked. "What about the Manor?"

"Change of scenery," he answered, hoping that would be enough of an answer to get her to leave him alone.

Draco heard her tell Athena to wait at the table as she rushed to catch up with him.

"Draco!" she called. "Wait a moment!"

He turned around, letting her know he was listening to whatever she had to say.

"You may think they still hate you, but I think they've forgiven you for what happened."

Draco stared blankly at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I think Blaise understood your decision, but choosing different paths still upset him, you know? And Hermione- uh- well, I'm not exactly sure Hermione has forgiven you, but I'm sure she doesn't hate you." She hugged her purse closer to herself. "Anyways, it might be good for you to talk to them sometime."

Draco was relieved to hear that Hermione was still alive, but she… hated him?

His shoulders felt like someone was sitting on them. He knew the busty red-head from earlier was probably his girlfriend, so he knew that he wasn't romantically involved with Hermione.. but they weren't even friends?

They were enemies- back to square one.

He wanted desperately to ask what he had done to make them hate him, but he knew he would blow his cover if he did that. Instead, he looked at the situation practically. She looked like she wanted him to talk with Hermione, and he needed to find her for intel.

"Do you know where she's staying?"

Mrs. Zabini smiled, and ungripped from her purse. "They moved to Westminster shortly after she was elected minister of magic. It's a nice place, but they're still adjusting to the move."

He was unsurprised Hermione was the minister. She was smart, and had great name recognition, plus the drive to get herself elected, but something felt off about her wording. He repeated what she said in her head a few times before noticing what bothered him.

" _They_?" Draco asked, realizing that Hermione didn't move alone.

She met his eyes and tilted her head to the side. "Blaise and Hermione, of course."

Draco felt his heart contract.

Draco understood immediately what that meant. Not only was he not in the picture, but someone else completely had stolen her heart.

_No…_

_Hermione and Blaise… but… Hermione loves me?_

_My best friend… and the girl I love…_

Draco clung to his chest and doubled over. Staring at the floorboards, he wondered where he could have went wrong in his life. There was no way he would have allowed this to happen. She was his. She loved him, dammit!

Nothing she had said so far made him feel like this… not when he got jealous of the time she spent with Blaise, or when she ignored him for weeks- at least at those times he knew she loved him. But now, knowing that she had moved on, and with someone he trusted nonetheless...

It felt like his soul was leaving his body...

like he wanted to kill his best friend...

like he wanted to hurt them both...

"Draco?" Mrs Zabini said cautiously, attempting to get his attention. People were beginning to stare at their interaction, and she really didn't want people to start gossiping about their encounter.

"Draco?" she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

His back tensed and jerked upright. He needed to get out of the room before he had a meltdown.

He lifted his eyes towards Mrs. Zabini's direction. "Excuse-" he started, but froze.

Reality came and hit him like a ton of bricks.

Sitting alone in the corner seat was a girl that looked exactly like his best friend… with the temper of the girl he loved.


	21. Stranger

Hermione had been screaming for hours- no maybe even days.

The dark cell they kept her in just made her want to sleep away all her time. There was nothing to do- nothing except wait for them to come for her again.

She had cuts all over. Deep cuts. Some even ran as deep as the bones. She couldn't remember how she got them, but she was glad there was some sort of spell keeping them from bleeding. The spell was enough to keep her from bleeding out, but not enough to subside the pain.

She could barely get past the filmy haze in her head to scream, but when she did, she wasn't sure if she was screaming for help or because of the pain at this point.

However, every time she thought about stopping, she would think about a tall blond with grey eyes who was waiting for her.

Draco's blood was running cold as he stared at the girl across the bar.

How could Blaise have done this to him?

He narrowed his eyes at the young girl. She hated him as soon as she had met him… And now he hated her too. Some girl, a fourth of his age, and he resented her for something out of her control. But he just couldn't help himself.

"Draco!" Mrs. Zabini yelled with her wand pointed at him.

He must have looked half crazed, because even though the girl in the back of the bar looked at him as loathsome as he felt towards her, the entire bar was staring in his direction.

Draco excused himself and ran up the stairs.

"I'm not going to think about it," he said out loud towards the wall.

He laid down on the mostly-clean bed and closed his eyes.

He had been so sure that Hermione loved him before everything at the manor happened. How could he think that now? After seeing what he just saw?

He still felt awful, but the facts remained facts- and the fact was that something changed. Maybe she didn't love him.

Tears began filling his eyes. He swore he would never cry about a girl, but he was sure this wasn't what he meant when he had initially made the vow. This was different. He loved her, and she loved him, but she chose someone else entirely. It had only been a day since they kissed, and now she had a kid with his best- his only- friend.

Yeah, this was worse than he could ever imagine.

Draco awoke to a pounding on the door.  _The house cleaning here is really getting aggressive_ , he thought while opening the door.

"Mr. Malfoy," said a man dressed in old tattered robes. "I'm sorry about the inconvenience, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

He didn't sound sorry. "Why?"

"Well," the man said, as though he was about to start a long list of reasons. "Last night-"

"Enough." Draco wasn't interested in listening to a poor bar manager tell him why he wasn't welcome anymore. "I'm leaving," he said, pushing past the man and walking down the hallway.

As soon as he was outside, he apparated home.

The manor looked as it always had, if not a little more aged. He walked straight for the library. It didn't matter that Hermione was with Blaise in the future. He had her in the present, and he had to help her. Whatever happened to this Hermione to make her love Blaise wasn't going to happen to him. He'd never let her see Blaise again if that was what it took.

The library had an entirely new section added to it towards the front. He figured he'd start there.

He was three books down before he found anything worth noting. Those responsible were either dead or in Azkaban, but there wasn't even a list of was almost no details of the account. Like it was covered up.

He opened the top drawer to the desk. Everything was organized with paper-clips and colour coordinated.

He took a peek into the larger drawer towards the bottom. On top, laid a picture of a beautiful Hermione Granger in an incredibly deplorable pink and green dress, and it was sitting on top of at least a hundred other clippings.

Draco was a unsettled by it. It seemed like a depressing hobby to keep track of an ex like this, but he couldn't help feel a little sorry for himself. It looked like life was going well for her, and he was sitting here collecting clippings of her happiness and stuffing it into a drawer.

He dug his arm into the very bottom, hoping he would pull out a clipping of useful information.

"Draco," his mother's voice rang as she opened the door. Draco scurried to get his hand out of the drawer and pushed it shut. She looked at him with sad, knowing eyes. "Blaise is here to see you."

He sat up, and put the books underneath his desk.

Blaise waltz into the room, acting as if he owned the place. "What the hell was that?" He yelled.

Draco stayed silent, giving him the silent treatment. Had he seen the clippings?

"You have the nerve, after all these years, to make a scene like that? In a public place, no less. What's wrong with you?"

Oh...That.

"Draco, if you don't tell me what's wrong with you, I'm going to call Hermione to come talk to you."

It was a threat... and quite an awkward threat at that.

Draco wanted to see her, but Blaise had said it as though Draco was avoiding Hermione. So, he decided to play the role he was given. "Don't do that."

"I'm going to have to, if you don't talk to me."

He crossed his arms, knowing it was a childish act, but knew it would make him follow through on his threat.

Blaise eyed him up and down. As if hit by the actual thought, Blaise's eyes widened. "But that's what you want, isn't it?"

Draco was cunning, but Blaise was sharp too. Draco should have known that Blaise wasn't stupid enough to not notice that he actually  _wanted_  to talk to Hermione.

He finally sat down in the chair across from Draco. "What do you want from Hermione?" he asked. "Money?"

"No," he said, a little peeved at the implication. He didn't even know his financial status at the moment, but he still felt offended. "I need to talk to her."

Blaise analyzed him for a few moments then stood up. "If you need to talk to her, than go talk to her."

"Is that a wise decision?" Draco asked, giving a slow, sardonic smile.

He was looking down at Draco. Not literally, but his face made it clear he was disgusted by the thought. Blaise was truly struggling with doing the right thing. "I know she loves me, and I know she'd never leave me. No matter what happens. She's not in love with you anymore."

Draco looked away. Blaise could be brutal sometimes. He always knew exactly what to say to twist the knife in deeper.

"But-" Blaise said in a softer tone. "I know she never stopped loving you either."

Blaise let out a long sigh. Draco could tell it was physically paining him to say this.

"You may have done some shitty things, unforgivable things even, but you were her first love… Even if she denies it, I think you guys need to talk."

He grabbed his coat and and right before he left Blaise added, "Seriously, don't act like that towards them again. You really scared my mum."

Draco didn't say anything. He needed to get to Hermione.

So he grabbed his coat and left as well.

Draco got into the ministry without a hitch. A half-witted man even helped him get onto the level where Hermione would be. The real problem was getting past the secretary.

"Mr…" the secretary said, looking up from a piece of parchment.

"Malfoy," he said, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes. The woman was older than dirt. There was just no plausible reason why she wouldn't know who he was.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Unfortunately, the Minister for Magic requires an appointment in advance."

Draco wasn't listening to her though. There was a lone door at the end of a long hallway, his eyes were fixated on it. He wondered how far he could make it before they caught him.

Draco hadn't even taken a step before the woman behind the counter sounded an alarm, apperating two middle-aged wizards alongside the blaring siren.

The stunning spells hit him before he even had a chance to touch his wand.

His last thought was that he regretted not having a plan, but when Draco awoke in an office room across from Hermione, he decided not having a plan wasn't too bad.

Her whole face had aged, sure, she was at least 20 years older, but she looked like she was a decade older than Blaise.

She had deep lines in her face. And even if he wanted to call them laugh lines to be polite, they definitely were not laugh lines. Honestly, she didn't look like she'd laughed in years. There were large bags under her eyes, and her outfit was more disheveled than he'd ever seen on a business woman.

"You," Draco croaked. "Look different."

"I'm sure I do," she said, marking something off of the paper. "The magazines do a lot of editing."

Her writing hand was shaking a bit. He wondered if she was nervous or angry.

"I was stunned?"

"Yes?"

"And how-?" Draco began.

"Do you honestly think they could ring an alarm bell and I'd just sit inside my office?" She looked up at him with the same vigor he'd grown accustomed to. "I'm Minister for Magic, not helpless...  _obviously_."

She drew her hands underneath the table. "And I'm allowing you in my office because I want to know why you're here," she said before he had a chance to ask.

There was a long pause. She was waiting for him to say something, but got tired of the silence. "Why are you here, Mr. Malfoy?"

He didn't like the formal, borderline rude tone she was taking on. Draco took a sip of water. "I met your daughter yesterday," he said, evading the question.

"Yes, I know."

"And you're married to Blaise. I'm not surprised."

"Well, you shouldn't be. We've been in the papers almost non-stop for ten years now," she said, putting down her pen. "And don't think for a second you're hiding anything valuable. Blaise may think he's sly, but I know you two are still in contact."

"And how do you know that?"

"It only takes a phone call to the Floo Network Authority to figure out why my floo powder is decreasing more than it should be."

"Don't you think that's a little invasive?" Draco muttered.

"I have a daughter, and I was worried," she said, but quickly added, "I should also have a basic idea of where my husband is, too."

"Sure, sure," he waved.

"Why are you here?" she snapped. "Do you need money?"

"No!"  _And why does everyone think I need money?_  "I want to know where they took you when you were kidnapped."

Her face fell. " _What is wrong with you?_ " she shrieked

"You-" She stood up so abruptly it knocked over one of the few picture frames on the desk towards Draco. "YOU after all these years! YOU want to know about  _that_? W-Who do you think you are?"

"I just want to help, Hermione."

"You want to help? Where were you then!?" she shouted, grabbing her hair.

Draco dared not to move because he was sure, at this very moment, she was insane. "Where were you when I fucking needed you,  _Draco_? You were eating a warm meal every day while I rotted away! You have no right to know! Wh- I... J-Just get out."

Draco didn't move. He just witnessed Hermione Granger having a complete mental breakdown. Did she actually want him to leave? Or did she just want him to turn his back so she could curse him for that too. He suddenly understood what a mouse caught by a cat felt like.

She lowered her hands and drew her wand, waving it towards the door. "Get. Out. Now."

"I may look like it, but I'm not-"

"I don't want to hear it, Malfoy!" She used her wand to throw the door open. "Leave."

And so he left, learning only that he hadn't tried searching for her, and that whatever time she spent there, she'd gone a bit crazy.

Draco was exhausted by the time he got home. He understood why Blaise wasn't concerned about them meeting. It made sense why Mrs. Zabini said she didn't think Hermione forgave him, but she was wrong to think Hermione didn't hate him.

She definitely hated him.

He knew now. Yes, he knew. She hated him, and it was all his fault.

It was nightfall, and again, he still hadn't accomplished what he set out to do.

He was mentally kicking himself for not being able to avoid the outburst. He smelled something savory coming from the kitchen and his stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten all day.

His mother was standing above a large pot of of some sort of stew. Normally, he wouldn't have even touched that sort of dish, but he was hungry, and more importantly his mother had actually made food for them.

Something was wrong with his family. He knew that now. Everyone assumed he needed money, there were no house elves, and his mother was cooking.

"Here," she said, handing him a bowl. "I hope it's better than the last time."

"Me too," he said, not knowing about the last time, but still hoping it was better.

Draco decided it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever eaten.

Before he could tell her it was good, she threw down her fork. "It's just as awful! I know it is. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's good."

"Really?" She asked, her eyes half watery.

"Y-yeah… look I'll clean the dishes," he said. It seemed she was in the midst of a breakdown too. He'd already seen one too many today.

"That's very kind."

Draco felt a breech in the wards and his mother's eyes turned to him. "If it's for me," he said, "tell them to come back tomorrow." Even if it was Hermione, he could just go to see her tomorrow.

She nodded her head and went to open the door.

Draco used his wand to wash the dishes. Of the few times he talked to Hermione about the Weasley's house she'd mentioned a automatic washing spell. Maybe that would be his parting gift to his mum of this world.

He heard two pairs of feet coming towards him.

Why did no one ever listen to him?

Draco was tired of talking… tired of thinking. Every move he made in this world so far had been calculated- more or less. So why was he also responsible for obliging everyone else's requests whenever they felt like it.

Draco set the sudsy dish on the counter top, not bothering to rinse or dry, and left with a loud pop.

He laid down on his bed. They probably believed he was gone by now. He might as well be. He grabbed a cold pillow, put it between his legs, and through his blanket over him.

He was almost on the verge of sleeping when there was a knock on the door.

"Let me in, Malfoy," said a beautiful, yet angry voice.

Moving was a pain. His wand was on the nightstand behind him, and turning over and losing his comfortable spot was too much of a hassle. Hermione would just have to talk through the door.

"I know you're in there. You don't have anywhere to go do you?"

What did she know? She said she hadn't talked to him in years. He could have loads of friends! Plenty of places to go.. Night clubs, bars, hotels. He could be anywhere.

There was a heavy sigh and a set of footsteps walking away.

Surely she would wait till morn-

His thoughts were cut in half by pieces of stone hurtling towards him. The air was so thick of dust from the wall's fragments he had to bring the blanket up to his mouth to breathe.

His grey eyes peaked above the blanket to see a very composed Hermione standing at the post of his bed.

"Don't ignore me," she said.

"I wasn't-"

"And don't lie."

She walked around the bed and wiped off chunks of rock and dust particles off of the blanket and sat down.

"So when are you from?"

Cutting right to the chase. It was just like her to do that. Draco thought. No silly roundabout questions like he'd been doing since he was here.

"I'm from… well, you were kidnapped about a day and a half ago."

She looked over at the wall she'd just blown up. "You're young then."

What a strange thing to say, he thought. What made it even more odd was the Loony Lovegood look she was giving the empty space of what should have given him some sort of protection from her.

"I guess..." This wasn't his Hermione. She'd already made that clear. He pulled the blanket from his face and sat up. "Look, are you going to tell me where they took you or not?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her lip curled up.

"You're a very insensitive person."

"No, actually I'm not. You're the insensitive one, trying to keep things from me that will help the girl I love."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't love her."

"Stop trying to tell me who I am and what I think. I don't care who you think I am. If you can't give me the answers that I want, than just leave already."

She stared at Draco. A stare that reminded him of his Aunt Bellatrix after she escaped from Azkaban. It was unsettling. His stomach clenched, and he averted his gaze.

"Fine. I'll tell you." No matter how sincere it sounded, the crazed look was still there. "But I'm going to give you something first.

She grabbed Draco's arm and yanked him forward. The force brought him face-first into the mattress.

A woman with a vendetta against him had him pinned down, vulnerable in his own bed, and not in the way he would have liked.

Then the pain came. She was carving something into his arm.

"HERMIONE," he begged, "STOP!"

She let go immediately. It was as instant as turning off a light. The real Hermione took back control of her body. Draco's soft pants were the only thing breaking the silence. He flipped over and glanced at his arm. It was throbbing, but he couldn't see anything wrong with it.

What the hell was that? He wondered.

Draco felt the mattress move. He moved his eyes towards her. He could tell she was holding her head in her hands, but everything else was blurry.

"I- I'm sorry. I'm sick- Draco I'm so sick." Her voice was beginning to shake. "I'm not like this, I swear. I haven't been this person in years. You didn't do anything. You didn't. It wasn't you, not really. It was him. Not you. I should have known it would be too much for you."

Draco strained to sit up, carefully avoiding using the arm she had just carved into.

Hermione's lips were shaking. She kept wiping at the tears, but it was only spreading the drops across her face. Something was completely broken in her. Something that made him want to crawl out of his skin, but it was also a feeling that made him want to give her comfort and help. This was still Hermione.

Draco wondered if he really was just a bystander to her torture like she had implied. The way she was treating him made it seem like he actually played a part.

She pulled his arm again, bringing him closer. Her hair was brushing against his forearm. "No- no. This is wrong," she said, rubbing soothing circles where she had cut.

She looked between his eyes and his arm. Her nails pressed in deeper. "I have to get it out."

Draco put his hand on her arm, giving what little comfort he could give. "Hermione, please stop. There's nothing there, you just cut me is all. Why don't you tell me what happened?"

She gave a slow nod, her hair falling down like a curtain in front of her.

"You never came for me. You didn't even look for me. The whole time I was in there I thought, 'Draco's going to find me, he's looking for me.' You, Harry, and Ron were going to burst through the door and save me. I was so sure of it. But…" she sighed, rocking back and forth. "But your parents told you not to, so you didn't."

"I'm sure there was more to it than that."

She glared up at him. "They said they'd disown you if you did, so you didn't. The same person who was able to make the decision not to look for me is sitting in front of me right now. That's who you are. You're incapable of love-"

"No I'm-"

"I've accepted it. I know now that you were able to make that choice.."

"I'm here now. I'm not the one that made that choice. Sure, I could have made that choice. Isn't anyone capable of making bad choices?"

Hermione shook her head. "Blaise didn't. Blaise didn't even wait for the Aurors to help when he found me."

"So he made a good choice." Draco shrugged. "That doesn't mean he wasn't capable of making a bad one."

"I want the me you know, the younger me, to know that you're capable of."

Capable of? That makes me sound like I was torturing her with my own hands. He thought.

She was watching him with bloodshot eyes. "You might think you didn't play a part, but doing nothing is just as bad." She paused, but continued when she felt like Draco wasn't going to say anything snarky. "I was held for five years." She was twisting knots in the bed sheet. She didn't want to tell him what happened or where she was. She didn't want to help him at all. But she owed it to her younger self, didn't she? She had to keep her from going through what she went through, even if she wanted Draco to suffer. "I don't know where exactly, because they just decided to drop me off one day in the middle of nowhere. But their leader was Knott Sr..  _and_ Jr."

The room seemed colder, stagnant, like the remaining walls in the room were closing in. "Both of them? Who else?"

"Nameless people. They all scattered when the Aurors finally found them. They all took unbreakable vows on identities. Even when you found one, it was almost impossible to get information on another."

"So-wait," Draco started. "How could Blaise, your  _knight in shining armour_ , find you if he didn't even know where to look?" Draco wondered if this was the real account of events or if her craziness was wearing into her memory.

"He knew where to find me because he's the one that bargained for my freedom. The day I was kidnapped, he joined them. You remember what it was like for the pure-bloods. They planted evidence on him in Hogsmeade just to get him to join. Remember?"

How could he not remember? For her, those moments were decades ago, but for Draco, they were still a very real threat.

"So Blaise joined, and they released me… eventually."

"Why would they trust someone who joined for the sole purpose of saving you?" he asked while shifting his legs.

"Because I meant less than nothing to them."

Hermione bit her lip and pushed her hair back. "They just wanted people in high positions, or people with name recognition to join their forces. It didn't matter why they joined. They were after you when they took me. They got Blaise, though. What mattered was their image, and making Blaise join because he wanted something back from them meant that they were a threat," she said. "And threats scare people into doing bad things."

"As we've discussed," Draco said, referring to his future-self's choices.

Hermione's face scrunched up. "So we have."

"So right now, even in my world… Blaise is?"

"Yeah, Blaise is one of them," she said softly, slowly, "but he's doing it for me."

Draco would bet his favourite broomstick she was wishing Draco had been able to come sooner somehow. At this moment, even in his world, Blaise was playing the hero for her. Hell, he already was the hero in  _this_  story, but Blaise wasn't going to be the hero in the real one.

That was up to Draco.


	22. Help

His arm was still sore, but nothing like when she was actually carving into it. Just a numb pain. He had never been so glad to get away from Hermione. Not even when they were younger.

Draco and Hermione left on pleasant terms. At least, that's what he wished he could say. She wouldn't answer any of his calls the next day. She was being unreasonable.

So, he laid in his bed, waiting to be delivered back to his universe. He thought back on the whole stay. It wasn't what he expected.

He could feel himself being pulled back to his time. It was as easy as shutting his eyes.

Except… something was different.

Draco screamed a four-letter word.

His mother's hands were on his cheeks in an instant. "Draco? Draco, are you alright?"

"Mum- What? Why aren't my eyes healed? Have they found Hermione?"

She made a grab at his hands, but he pulled away. He wasn't in the mood to comfort anyone.

"Nothing yet."

"Honey?"

Nothing had gone his way since Hermione had left him for Blaise. He was at his wits end, consumed by emotions he hadn't had since the war. If he had thought he wasn't in control then, all he needed to do was meet this version of himself. Controlled by a love he wasn't completely sure was directed at him.

His time in the future only made that abundantly clear. He wasn't who Hermione thought he was. She still had this painted image of an upstanding guy in her head. And he never once felt like that. Even if she didn't understand who he was, he still loved her. And he needed to save her. That was still the goal. Seeing her choose someone else didn't change that fact.

"I can't do anything if I'm useless-"

"You're not-"

"When will I have my eyesight back? They said three days, didn't they?" Draco smacked his mother's hands away again. "Why is everyone so useless lately?"

"Draco, honey, these things take time."

"When are they expecting them to be done now?"

"Well-"

"Well what?"

"It should be soon."

He slammed his hands down on the mattress. Draco grabbed a fistful and rubbed his hand on the fabric.

"Have you seen Blaise?"

"Once. He came to see if you were well again, but he left quickly. I think... he seemed off… like he- "

"He did. I already know he did."

"Why would he do something so stupid?" she asked. "And over a Mud- Muggle-born?"

Draco shrugged, ignoring her slip up. "Because he likes Hermione too. He might even love her."

His voice was filled with a sorrow Narcissa hadn't heard from her son before, but she remained tight lipped. She felt sorry for her son. It was his first love, of course he would be upset about it, but she would rather Blaise get to Hermione first. She didn't hate her. She just wasn't right for her son.

She regretted bringing Hermione into their home in the first place. She didn't offer them the protection they had hoped for, and worse, she had taken her son's heart.

His mother let out a long sigh. "Well, right now you are in no condition to do any sort of fighting."

Draco didn't feel like arguing. He could duel the halfwits blind. He would. Because no matter what, if she didn't get away from where ever she was now, she would never be the same.

"I'll give the healers one more day."

An hour later, he heard the door produced a long, drawn out wine to someone's arrival. He knew it wasn't a healer. The healers practically barged in when they came to test him. This was a cautious hand.

"Come in," his mom said. "It's Blaise," she whispered.

"I was just checking on you."

"Aren't you on house arrest?"

"Would you believe me if I said they let me go?" Blaise countered.

"Not a chance."

"Well, you're partly right. But I heard you took a trip to the future. So, you probably have an idea."

"It's limited. Why don't you catch me up to the present?"

"They haven't let me go, but I don't much care. I'm visiting a sick friend right now, and after, I'll go about the work I've been told to do. Whether the ministry catches me is a different story."

"Mum, could you give us some privacy?"

She got up slowly, but left without a word. Perhaps she thought that Draco forgot she was there, but her presence wasn't exactly forgettable, even to him.

"The choice was mine to make," Blaise said, his voice unwavering.

Draco tried to choose his words carefully, but the anger bubbling in his chest was trying to find an out. "You saw what I went through. How could you make a decision like that?"

"Draco," he said, laughing at him. "I'm doing this for love. The path I chose is vastly different."

If this had been a few days prior, Draco wouldn't have felt as worried as he did now. But he knew there was a real chance that she would leave him for Blaise. Especially once she realized that he wasn't anything like the Draco she met in the future. If anything, he felt more like the useless twat he was told he was yesterday.

"So you did this for Hermione? Really, it's almost laughable. You decided to become a bad guy for  _my_  girlfriend?"

"Are you sure about that?" Blaise said in a voice saturated with implications Draco didn't want to think about. "She never said anything like that when she was with me."

"Don't talk about Hermione like she's a toy."

"Yes, of course. You're right, Draco."

"Why do you even care?"

"I don't. Not really. Cause let's face it. You're blind. I can see. You're stuck here, and I'm free to leave and save her whenever I want."

"Then why aren't you running off into the sunset? You've had three days-"

"That's what I've been doing. I've been sorting this out. Trying to get to her- to get leverage to see her."

"It won't take much. You're one of them now."

"That's exactly it, Draco," Blaise said exasperated. "They know I'm only in it for her. They know I don't believe in their nonsense, and they're not going to let me see her that easily."

Draco closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

"I'm trying my best to save her because, for once, she needs me to. When you're better, I hope you'll do what you can to help."

"It should be me saving her." His blond hair was covering his face. If Blaise was the one to rescue her, Draco knew it would be the end of whatever short affair they had.

"Look mate," Blaise said, taking his leave. "If you think whoever saves her is going to win her heart or something, you don't really know her at all. Stop making this about your pride."

Draco closed his eyes. "Just get her out of there."

Blaise's voice was at the door. "I plan on it."

His chest constricted as he turned on his side.

"Draco," his mother whispered. It was the softest tone she ever took with him. As much as he wanted to be alone, he knew pushing her away would hurt her more than it would help him.

He couldn't respond. He was strong. He knew he was. But no matter how hard he tried to stop the tears, or to stifle the hiccups, he couldn't stop. He was helpless.

His mum laid down on the bed next to him. Something she hadn't done since before he went to Hogwarts. There wasn't room for two people on the hospital cot, but neither moved until his breathing was back to normal.

Her feet landed softly on the floor as she got off the bed. Draco didn't want her to leave, but said nothing in fear that his voice would crack and make him sound more pathetic than he already felt.

A few minutes later he heard steps come back- two pairs.

"Mr. Malfoy, could you please sit up?"

The nurse. He did as she asked.

"Draco, I'm going to give you a potion. Would you like me to mix it or drink it straight?"

"Does it matter?" His voice didn't crack, but it was raw. He could barely hear himself.

"No," she said. She sounded young. And the way she gave a patients a choice made him think she was inexperienced as well. "I just want to make this easy for you."

He reached out his hand without another word. She placed the vial in his hand.

"What is it?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Well?"

"-I, well- it's a cure f-for this."

"How many times do I have to take it?"

"Uh-"

"Once Draco." His mother's voice was stone.

"I thought you said it would take another week?!"

"I lied." Her voice was already turned away from him.

He could clearly tell the feet apart now. His mother's were clear, deliberate. She didn't support him. She never would when it came to Hermione. But, she was helping him now. Because it's what he wanted, needed.

Hermione made him a better person. Maybe she just realized that now, maybe she just hated seeing him break down like that. But she wasn't going to stand in his way anymore, and that was a huge step for him.

"I'm sorry, Mister Malfoy," she said, placing the vial in his hand.

He drank the contents and waited. It took about thirty minutes for the white specks to clear out from his eyes, and an hour for his eyes completely focused. Had she given him the vial before Blaise arrived, he would have gone with him.

That woman, Hermione, had said he was incapable of love. It wasn't true. She gave him information that no one in this world knew but him. The Knott's had her. And he was going to do everything he could to save her.

Once again, Draco found himself at the beginning of a long hallway in the Ministry. It was probably one of the brightest hallways he'd ever stepped foot in. There wasn't a shadow in sight, but what else could you expect from some of the mistrustful people in the world?

An older woman with a scar down the side of her scalp held the door and stepped in after him.

"It's the third door on the right."

Draco knocked on the door and waited, shifting his weight. His heart jumped when he saw the woman still behind him. She was stealthier than most. The sight of an old woman shouldn't scare him, but she'd looked like she'd killed her fair share of dark wizards, probably even some of his family during the first war.

She didn't look at him, though. And when the door opened, she merely moved to the side of the door and stood there.

She was their bodyguard, and even though it put a smile on his face that an old woman was their security, he had no doubt she was more than able to take him out if he were to try something.

"Draco," the tired voice said. His green eyes were barely open.

"I didn't know we were on a first name basis."

He glared, but stepped aside.

"Have you or Weasley found anything yet?"

"No." Harry sighed, slumping into his desk chair. "Honestly, I was hoping you had something important to say."

"I do," Draco said, pacing the hardwood floors.

Harry sat up in his chair. Or rather, attempted to. It looked more like he was trying not to fall asleep.

"Honestly, you're almost better to me dead than in this state. Where's Weasley?"

"In his office. Even in this 'state', I'm more equipped for helping her than you are."

"Are you sure of that? Because I'm the one who knows where she is," Draco taunted.

Harry stood up and slammed his hands on the desk. "If you know where she is, you need to tell-"

"I want you to assure me you'll let me go too," Draco said, putting his hands behind his back. It reminded Harry of the authority Draco's father used to radiate, and the manipulation tactics Tom Riddle used in the past.

It unnerved him, but they wanted the same thing- to bring Hermione home.

"You have my word Malfoy, as long as Hermione wants you as part of her life, I'm not going to stop you from-"

"Fine. Fine. I don't need a speech."

Draco knew it was selfish to act like this, but it was taking away the stress he had been feeling since he woke up, and getting a rise out of the great Harry Potter was one of his best stress relievers.

Harry gritted his teeth. "What do you know?"

"She's being held by the Knotts… Probably."

"Probably?" Harry asked, leaning his head so far forward his glasses fell down the bridge of his nose. "We can't barge into someone's home based on possibilities."

"Can't we though?" Draco said, tilting his head to the side.

"Not anymore."

"I guess the Aurors only like to break into homes when it's convenient to them."

"It was war time, Malfoy. We were within our rights to raid your house. It would help us a lot right now if we could break into anyone's house we suspect, but I need some proof."

"Well I don't have any! I have zero proof. All i have is the ramblings of a crazy woman twenty years in the future, and even then, they could have moved her by now."

"Draco," he said, hovering his arm in the air for a moment and laying it back down. "I want to get her back too, but we need to find out if she's  _actually_  there first."

"She  _is_  there!" Draco said, throwing his arms up in defeat. "I just can't prove it to you."

"Then you're going to have to let us do our job, Malfoy."

"Don't patronize me." He knew his words weren't getting to him. Why did he have to make a solid case for Potter to save his own best friend? Shouldn't  _he_  be the one diving straight in to save Hermione? "You know, you're stuck so far up your own arse that you won't even do what's right anymore. When did this job become more important than her?"

"It's not, but we're not kids anymore!" Harry yelled as Draco was leaving. "I wouldn't just lose my job. I'd get sent to Azkaban!"

Draco hoped his words hurt, but he had to make one more stop before he went back home.

The old broad led him down the hall. She knocked on the door, and moved to the side like before.

Unlike the exhausted looking Harry, Ron looked wired. His eyes were bloodshot; his movements were exaggerated. Draco was sure he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. He looked worse than some of the people coming out of Azkaban.

"A-are you okay?" Draco asked, less concerned for Ron than for his own well being.

"Just great. I haven't slept in days. I've been here, trying to sleep on the bloody floor, unsuccessfully," he said, throwing his arm towards the pile of blankets in front of his desk. "We've been assigned four cases this week alone, and we still don't have a clue where Hermione is. And with how much work they're giving us, it's hard to believe they're taking her case seriously."

He slumped at his desk and began shifting papers around. "So please, Malfoy, say what you want and get out."

"I have a lead on Hermione. She's with the Knotts."

Ron laughed for a few seconds. No matter what he was thinking, it didn't warrant that kind of laugh. "Were you as great in the future as she makes you out to be?"

Draco knew there was some resentment there. Ron pretended not to show it before, for Hermione's sake maybe, but there it was.

"Yep, we lived happily ever after. Seems like we were meant to be."

"You're lying." he said. He still had a smile on his face, but he was anything but in a good mood. "She's got this crazy idea that you're a good guy, but I'm not going to fall for it."

"I don't care what you think. I'm asking for help, not for you to like me."

"And why would I help you."

" _It's like talking to a child,"_ Draco thought.

"Because your best friend was kidnapped, and probably being tortured this very moment. Or does that not matter to you? Are you too worried about your job like Potter?"

Ron's face grew red. "This is Harry's dream job. You can't blame him for wanting to do this the right way."

Draco took a moment to respond. Reigning in his disgust for even asking Ron for help.

"And what about you? Is this the job of your dreams? Or are you going to do something with what I've given you?"

Ron stared down at the papers he was shuffling.

"Look at me, Malfoy,” he said, swiping his hands in front of him to emphasis his point. “I don't think this job's for me, and it's killing me that I didn't stop this before they took her."

He was right. He looked like shite. Not how Harry was starting to look. Harry looked like he was meant for that kind of stress. Ron looked like he was dying, slowly and painfully.

"Get some sleep, at home, in a bed. I'll come get you in the morning."

"Wha- Wait- What's the plan?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I don't have one yet. But to have a plan, I need people that are going to function properly."

As Draco sat in front of a pile of scribbled ideas at a Muggle hotel in the outskirts of London. He knew he wasn't going to get sleep. He wasn't drinking, but he thought a nice cup of something strong would make this night better- something to take the edge off his nerves.

He wished he could go back to the manor, just for the sake of comfort. But that and much more had been taken from him. He was surprised to find that he didn't feel vengeful- just worried, scared even.

He knew the plan wasn't likely to work. It would have to have too much luck on their side. And Draco didn't think the stars were going to align for him tomorrow.

He was going to have to run around the property until he found her. It seemed like a death wish. He knew the Knott's house well enough, but he still didn't know where they were keeping her.

But Ron would have the harder job. The harder job by far.

 


	23. Time

Draco knocked on the slab of nearly-rotted wood that the Weasley's decided to call their front door.

Mrs. Weasley answered the door, none too pleased by who was knocking, but not surprised either. Draco supposed Ron had already warned his family that a Malfoy would be coming to visit.

"Ron will be down shortly," she said, half her body covering the opening of the door.

It didn't get past him that she didn't invite him in and was blocking the doorway as much as reasonably possible. Draco didn't mind it though. He was used to it from most people he went to visit.

Draco expected Ron to look like he had the prior day, or at least groggy from sleep, but to Draco's surprise, he had some pep in his step.

"Ron," his mother said, leaving the door ajar and facing her son. She tried to talk low, but Draco could hear every word, clear and crisp.

" _Don't trust him. It's you or him."_

Draco didn't say anything. He deserved it.

 _Sorry, Mrs. Weasley._ Draco thought.  _He's going to have to have unquestionable trust for this to work._

He took a step into the overgrown grass next to the stone walkway to let Ron out the door.

"He loves Hermione, mum," Ron said, stepping over the threshold and going shoulder to shoulder with Draco. Obviously, he wasn't trying to keep the conversation hush-hush. "He's not going to do anything that wouldn't help her. I trust that."

She gave a taught smile and shut the door without another glance at Draco.

"So, what's the plan?"

"Uh- well, I've thought it through, and I think it's best that everyone there still believes you're an Auror."

"They can believe whatever they want. As long as I'm not impersonating one, it's not illegal."

"Well…"

"Oy, what do you mean 'well'?" he said, scrunching his nose.

"I kind of need you to pretend you're investigating them."

"So, I should start questioning them? I still won't have to tell them I'm an Auror."

"Well…" Draco said, a little higher this time, still trying to warm Ron up to the idea of being bait. "I was thinking you would tell them you were leading an investigation."

Ron's jaw dropped. "I'm starting to think you're only trying to put me Azkaban." He kicked at the dirt, threw his head back and groaned.

"It's the only way to get as many people to leave as possible. I remember when there were raids in my house during-"

Ron snapped. "I don't want to hear about what you did in the war. And I'm not an idiot. I know that bad people run away when an Auror shows up asking questions."

"Then you'll-?"

"Do I have a choice? That's why you wanted me anyways. What about you?" he asked, waving an arm at Draco.

Draco shrugged. "I'm just going to run around till I find her."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," mumbled Ron.

"You got a better plan?"

"I could get Harry's invisibility cloak. It would buy you time."

"Impossible."

"And why's that?"

"Because Hermione had it last, and that part of the house was destroyed."

Ron gave an idiotic smile. "We should go there first."

"What? To gawk at our misery?"

"I don't care about you," Ron said, his face growing red. "We need to find the cloak."

Draco folded his arms. Why they were standing in front of his home was past him. If Weasley couldn't tell that nothing in that wing of the house made it out that night, he was dafter than he thought. Draco figured Ron just needed to see the destruction before he gave up.

The Dragon had crushed the stone walls to pebbles, bits and pieces of furniture and porcelain were strewn about the lawn. Even though Draco couldn't spot anything specific in the rubble, he was still looking.

Luckily, the manor wasn't burnt. Only parts of the tree line were destroyed. Draco shivered. Even though it was already 10 in the morning, it was still freezing outside. As much as he loved wintertime, he liked being warm much more, and this seemed like a waste of time.

"You know it's probably torn and unusable. It doesn't look like much survived," Draco said.

Ron scoffed. "Just start looking. It's black- and uh- had some sort of pattern on it."

"Great description."

"It's a blimey cloak. Just look for a cloak," he said, shaking his head.

"I've already seen it anyways," Draco said, waving him off.

"Where should we start?" asked Ron.

"Your parents lived in a shack just to send you to school, and you don't even remember how to use magic," Draco said, shaking his head. "Accio cloak."

His face fell when it didn't lift from the ground.

"Like  _I_ said, just look for the cloak." Ron turned around. "And I didn't forget how to use magic." He said, shaking his wand at Draco and levitating a piece of rubble out off to the side.

It was a lot to sort through, but Draco estimated it would take a few hours to get through it all, assuming they didn't find it until the very end.

They decided to make two piles and took opposite sides of the mound. One next to the garden for clothing, and a second of broken items and the shattered walls.

Draco was absorbed in the work quickly. Only pausing once when he found a portrait that had been lucky enough to survive the attack. Most were ruined completely, some only had rips in them. He decided to make a third pile for them.

He went to lift another block, but something was forcing it back on the ground. He glanced around the pile, but nothing was blocking it. He grabbed the wand with both hands and put his full force into it, it was slowly moving further up, but it felt like he was lifting cinder blocks.

The resistance went away in an instant. The objects went flying a few hundred feet into the air, and the force from the relief threw Draco hard onto his back.

Draco heard a suppressed laugh from behind him, and quickly sent a stupefy spell in the direction.

"Oy! It's me!" Ron said, uncloaking himself.

"Yeah, I know." He stood up and dusted off his pants. "So you found the cloak?"

"You just threw a stunner at me!"

Draco laughed. "In your direction, there wasn't much of a chance that it would-"

Ron put his hands on his knees, but smiled and shook his head. "I really wasn't expecting that."

"Well, you are an Auror. You should always be expecting an attack."

"Was…" Ron said.

"As of yesterday." Draco shrugged. "It wasn't damaged at all?"

Ron inspected the cloak, opening it wide for Malfoy to look for tears as well. Ron handed it to Draco.

"It looks brand new. What kind of cloak is that, anyways?

Ron shrugged. “Let's get going.”

Draco and Ron stood at the edge of the wards. The grass was crisp and dry under their feet giving them no room to be secretive.

Draco wished he could say something. Some sort of final words to give them both the strength to finish their mission. But he couldn't, because no matter where they were, on this property, there was a chance someone was listening.

Ron waited for someone to meet him at the gate. He didn't recognize the people Knott Senior sent. Which only made Draco wearier. Why wouldn't the Knotts come themselves? It already felt as if they knew, and if they knew, they were both in trouble.

Two guys, both bulky with crew cut hair, escorted Ron back to the main house. No one tried to start a conversation to ease the tension. Not even Ron, Draco thought, a bit surprised.

He hadn't been there in years, and although nothing looked like it had changed, he also couldn't exactly grasp the layout of the house.

Draco didn't bother telling Ron he was going to go a separate way, even if this was a trap, Ron would have to save himself. His one goal was to save Hermione, and nothing would make him blow his cover.

Maybe the matriarch was right to tell Ron not to trust him.

He was only a few turns into the house and was already lost. There was no noise to the house at all, not even distantly. He felt like he was being watched the whole time. He had to try to regulate his breathing, or at least silence his footsteps, otherwise he was going to be caught just for being noisy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. He almost missed it, but he knew anything at this point was worth considering.

There were two people walking away from him, but he hadn't passed any doors in that hallway. It was easy to figure out what had happened. Less easy to figure out exactly where they came from.

Draco backtracked where he had come from. He ran his hand against the left wall, then the right. Neither gave way.

Draco was in a tough spot. If there was a spell to use to open a door, he surely wouldn't know it. And he only had a general idea of where they had come from.

He said a silent prayer for his acquaintance down the hall.

"Bombardia Maxima," he yelled.

Large chunks of granite stone flew everywhere, narrowly missing Draco. The whole wall had come down, revealing a narrow stairwell. Even with the lighting from the hallway, he couldn't see past the first curve in the wall. With all the lighting extinguished, Draco stumbled going down. He grabbed the uneven walls for support. Bits of stone came off when his grasp grew stronger.

He was fighting the urge to light his wand, but he knew that would be a sure-fire way for them to find him in the dark.

Unlike the stairs, the holding cells were illuminated, albeit dimly. Draco started to run, caution to the wind. He needed to find her before they found him, and they wouldn't be far behind.

He looked left and right with each cell he passed, glimpsing for any life. One cell gave him pause. He did a double take, but it was two house elves. They didn't see him though, they were clutched to each other looking at the entrance, waiting for whatever had blown up upstairs.

He turned the corner, slipping on a small puddle. He caught his footing, and saw the cell to the left of him had a frail looking girl in it. Her hair was matted to her face, and unlike the house elves, she didn't seem concerned with whatever had blown up down the hall.

Draco spelled the door open and knelt next to her. She wasn't responding.

"Hermione?" he said, shaking her. Her eyes flickered, but she didn't move.

He heard shouting, running.

He knew he wouldn't be able to carry Hermione for long, if at all.

Draco dragged her to the corner ungraciously and set her against the wall. He grabbed the cloak off the floor and sat as close as he could in front of her, leaning against her and tucking her feet in. He draped the cloak around them both, and did what he did best-hid.

He could wait them out until he formulated a better plan.

They stopped in her cell. He recognized them both from his time as a Death Eater, but never knew their names.

They were lowly snatchers.

And not the brightest. "You think they took her that way?" The shorter one asked, his teeth sticking out as he rested his mouth into a frown.

"Well they didn't make it past us," the other said, shrugging. "They're as good as dead."

Hermione shifted under his weight and rested her head against his back. "Draco?" she murmured. It was slurred. He suspected she wasn't even awake yet.

But it was enough to catch the attention of the two men at the door.

Draco cast a stupefy at the tall one, but as he did that, the shorter one had already drawn his wand and cast a curse. It hit the wall, cracking it.

Draco threw a charm at the second one, hitting him in the shoulder. He slumped to the ground.

He wasn't going to be able to hide very well with two bodies piled in front of the door.

He turned around, wrapping the cloak around his neck like a towel.

"Hermione?" Her dull eyes were looking at him. She was awake, but still unaware. He used a rejuvenation charm. It would have side effects later, but he wouldn't be able to carry her and protect her.

"Draco?" she said, her voice raspy. "Why are- how?"

"We have to get out of here. Can you stand?" he asked, offering a hand.

Hermione grabbed his hand, using it more than he thought was a good sign.

“Draco, it hurts.” she said, benging over, her hands grabbing her knees. Her hair was covering her face, and her breathing was ragged like she had just run a mile.

“Hermione, can you move?”

The move was taxing, but she straightened her back and nodded. "I'm fine."

He threw her arm over his shoulder and grabbed her by the waist, giving her as much support as he could without carrying her. He needed his wand hand. But if she lost consciousness again, they would need a true miracle to make it out of here alive.

Walking out of the cell, he grabbed both the guard's wands. He wasn't confident they wouldn't wake up before he made it out. Especially with how slow they were going.

Draco took another step, but Hermione didn't move along with him. No matter how many times he rejuvenated her, she didn't have the strength to stay awake.

They had seconds, not minutes. He weighed his options, thinking quickly.

"Hermione," he said. She barely had the strength to look at him. Her eyes weren't looking for a fight, she didn't even look alive.

"Hermione, I love you." She didn't smile, she didn't say anything back either. She just kept looking up at him. He wondered she even heard him. He knew it was wrong to say it in this moment, but he didn't know if either of them would survive. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now. But I love you. So much." He kissed her forehead.

"Daisy! Flick!" He called his house elves. They were at his side in an instant. "Daisy, you get her out of here- back to the Weasley's. Flick, grab the Weasley upstairs and do the same."

"Mm…" Hermione coughed as Daisy took her from his arms. He didn't want to be alone, but when it came down to it, he'd more than earned whatever was about to happen.

He let go of her, and as soon as his fingers left her side, she was gone.

"What about Master Draco?"

"Trust me, Weasley's in worse shape than me right now. Go!"

Draco put on the invisibility cloak as fast as he could, but it wasn't in time. He jumped out of the way of a cruciatus, but was struck with three more where that came from.

He had almost pushed through to reality after the first three, but he lost, losing count of how many he had endured.

And everything went white.

He woke up, with one of the only faces he never wanted to see again for as long as he lived.

"Potter,” he said, trying to move his arms. They were strapped down to a board of some kind.

There were others with him. Others he didn't recognize.

"Guess I'm not such a bad friend to have after all," the green-eyed wizard said.

"Only after the fact," Draco muttered.

"You've been here ten minutes."

Draco was… embarrassed? Was that even the word. Maybe emasculated. It felt like he'd been there hours. The pain seemed to stretch on, even now. He thought about Hermione. It must have felt like years. And to the Hermione from the other life, it must have felt like centuries. It was the first time he'd ever been in that kind of pain. It was describable.

He'd been on the other end of the wand at some points. And thank Merlin the war was over, because he wasn't sure he'd be able to cast that curse ever again.

"Care to let me out of this?" Draco asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Someone let him out and check him."

A mediwizard was at his side instantly. Checking him for permanent damage.

One of the more concerned Aurors handed him a napkin. "For, uh… the face."

Draco wiped his face. Drool and sweat covered the napkin.

"Gross," he said to himself.

"And everyone else?" Draco asked.

"Ron was mostly unhurt. He gave us the information we needed to pull this off. So, you owe him a thank you. And Hermione is at St. Mungo's -stable."

Good. He thought. Stable was good considering what she'd been through.

Harry shuffled his feet. "Blaise is already there."

Draco raised his eyebrows. Was there something he was missing?

"Look, I know how Hermione feels about you, and Blaise being there is just a little more than I can take."

"And why's that, Potter?"

It seemed like he was puking the words out. "Don't you think one Slytherin is enough. I really don't want to deal with two."

"I couldn't agree more… But how did he get there so fast?"

"He… Uh... burned his leg. Not too badly, but enough for the house arrest monitor to warrant him a visit. I guess his… comrades… let him know that she had escaped. I guess they didn't think about how he'd go to her instead of them."

"So, me over Blaise?" Draco asked.

"No," he laughed. "Blaise is good. Smart bloke, and loyal from what I can tell. And he likes her, to the brink of insanity it seems. But it's not my choice, is it? I just figured you'd want to see her."

Those words. They hurt him somehow. Would anyone say that about him? Sure, he was smart. But would they call him loyal? Would people say he loved her to the brink of insanity? He desperately wanted not to care. To throw away society's view. But they would always think he had political motivations before irrational ones.

They would always think he was scum.

At least Blaise was redeemable. Even joining the resistance, it was all for love. He could practically write the headlines himself.

He joined the Death Eaters for his family. Was that not enough love? Not in the wizarding community. It was life or death at that point, and if someone was to choose the wrong side, it didn't matter the reason. To society, it meant they subscribed to all the doctrine.

Blaise was a far better man in the eyes of the wizarding community, to Hermione, hell even to Draco.

No one would sing his praises. No matter the sacrifice.

"Take me back to my family," Draco said. "I need to be with them."

Hermione was tired of the hospital already. The white and blue curtains were getting on her nerves more than they should have, and she didn't have anything to occupy her time. Well, except for her one and only guest so far.

"Why would you burn your leg? You idiot you could have really hurt yourself." She glanced down at the leg for what seemed like the hundredth time. "You  _did_  really hurt yourself."

Blaise gave a cashmere smile. "I needed some fresh air."

"Not many people would say hospital air is 'fresh'."

"You got me." He leaned in close and whispered, "I heard there was someone famous staying in one of these rooms, and I just had to come see for myself."

Hermione laughed for what seemed like the first time in her life.

"They wouldn't let me out for something that wasn't serious anyways. Especially after what I pulled."

She looked away then. "You shouldn't have done that. I'm going to do anything in my power to make sure you get out of this."

"I know you will."

"It's partly my faul-"

"Don't say that Hermione." His eyes were begging. "Please, my decisions aren't your fault."

"But the ministry- once they know what happened and why you did it."

Blaise grabbed Hermione's hand.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to- ever.''

She shook her head. "I can't... I will... just not yet." Salty tears started to drip down off her nose onto her arm. "I can't even figure out if  _this_  is real yet."

"Hermione," he said smooth and soft. He tilted her head towards him. "Hermione I promise this is real. They will never hurt you again."

Hermione removed her hand from his grip. "Will you?" she said, moving over for him to get on the cot with her.

"Sure," he said, nodding slowly. He pushed the blankets under her. It was cold in the hospital, and she already felt like an ice cube.

He knew lying beside her didn't mean anything. He could stay with her, sleeping by her side for hours, but that wouldn't change the fact that she just needed human touch right now.

Although, he would do just about anything to make it for different reasons. He loved her. But for now, they were friends.

He'd played all his cards. It was her move now.

"Just get some sleep."

 


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** To my lovely readers, thank you. It was your support and reviews that kept me going. To any new reader, thank you for reading as well. It's been a pleasure to write this, and I hope you've enjoyed reading. -Lights

* * *

 

Blaise had taken over the cot.

Hermione stood across the room. There wasn't much to do until they discharged her, and she just wanted to be alone for a little while longer. She gazed out the window. She knew it wasn't a real window. Just charmed to see whatever landscape the designers dreamed up. In this case, it was a park, and a handful of kids were playing with magic.

She wondered where Draco was. Ron had come to visit before he left for the Burrow. It was a short visit. He mostly just wanted to make sure she was okay, and she asked if he was going to try to get his job back. He wasn't. And Hermione didn't blame him. She expected Harry to be an Auror, but Ron had only chosen to help because of the rebels, and the resistance was gone now.

Ron was a hero, and not for the first time in his life. She hoped the Prophet would give him the recognition he deserved. The press would be relentless these next few weeks- for everyone involved.

Blaise sat up slowly on the cot. "Hermione?"

She turned around, giving him a shy smile. "How'd you sleep?" she asked, sitting next to him in the lone chair in the room.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Blaise fixed his shirt. "Did you have trouble sleeping?"

"No. I was forced out of the bed."

"Sorry," he said, sheepishly. "So, what are your plans today?"

"I'm going back to the Manor. I need to see Draco and make sure he's okay."

He frowned. "And after that?"

Hermione twisted at her fingers. "And after that, I'm going to see where Draco and I stand."

"Where you stand?" he asked, swinging his legs over the cot.

"We kind of… expressed our feelings before I left. I want to clarify them."

He looked at her, begging with his eyes for her not to say what she was about to say.

"Blaise, I love Draco."

It felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on his chest.

"Do you need me to help you get out of here?" he asked.

"Blaise," she said, reaching for his hand.

He drew his hand to his chest, careful to avoid her touch. "I don't- I just need some space right now. Are you okay if I go?"

"Y-Yeah. Please, though, you have to understand-"

"I do. Really, I do. Just, not now, okay?"

Blaise put on his shoes and left without so much as a glance her way.

It hurt. It hurt to hurt him. In another life, she could've seen herself with him. It would've been easy to date Blaise. But he didn't make her heart jump like Draco. He didn't make her knees feel weak when he talked to her.

She didn't love him like she loved Draco. And hopefully he'd forgive her for that one day.

She sat there for a while, watching the kids play in the park. The artist probably intended for the scene to be peaceful, but Hermione thought it brought a bit too much excitement into the hospital. If she had designed it, she would have made it a view of Hogwarts, perhaps the moving staircases, or a view of The Great Lake, with creatures popping out of the water every few minutes.

At least in Muggle hospitals they could change what they saw on the telly at the click of a button.

She left the room, sick of wasting time- so much of it had already been wasted.

"Miss Granger," the blond woman behind the information desk said, smiling wide. She was trying to be formal, but she looked only a few years older than Hermione. "What can I do for you?"

"I would just like my discharge papers, please."

"Uh- Well, let me check your file," she said, tapping the clip board with her wand. She read over the papers and frowned. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that would be prudent. You may have suffered extensive neurological damage from what happened. You really should stay another night."

"I understand. I'll check back in a few days to make sure everything is okay."

The Mediwitches tried their best to persuade her to stay, but Hermione knew she didn't need to. They let her out with the stipulation that she came back the next day for a checkup, and visited with a mental Mediwizard once a month for the next six months. That type of care was more than most the children at Hogwarts got for being involved in the war, but she didn't say anything. She'd do anything to go home.

They recommended Hermione taking the floo to avoid the press, and in most circumstances, she would have avoided the press like the plague. But for once, she wanted to use the press for some good.

The hospital's front door opened when she came close, and there were already flashes from the cameras, blinding her.

"Miss Granger! How was your recovery?" A short man, maybe 60 years old asked. He had kind eyes for a news reporter. Unlike the muggle news, wizarding news didn't have identification to what news outlet they were representing. And unless it was a well-known reporter like Rita Skeeter, there wasn't much to go off of.

"Where did they take you?" another one shouted.

"Were there others?"

"Good morning," Hermione said. "I'd like to give a brief statement. First, I would like to thank the Aurors for fighting and arresting the rebels they found. I would also like to give a special thanks to my friends Ronald Weasley, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy. They all showed tremendous courage and faced danger just to help me. I wouldn't be here without any of them."

Hermione smiled and shifted her eyes to the end of the walkway where apperation was permitted.

"Excuse me."

The short older man decided to join her small walk.

"Hermione, is it true you're staying with the Malfoy family?"

"No, their house was attacked by a Dragon," she said. She was living with them, just not anymore.

"Are you in a relationship with Draco Malfoy or Blaise Zabini?"

Hermione looked up. _How did he draw that conclusion?_ They were only together in public once, and that was still a large conclusion to draw. "Excuse me?"

"A war hero such as yourself drawing attention from people on the other side of the war, you must be in love with at least one of them, yes? You were the only one on Blaise's visitation list, and you even flooed in between the Malfoy's and the Zabini house."

"The Floo connection is a confidential matter. Y-You could never use those without recourse."

"Miss, this is a criminal case, the floo service released those files to the public," he said scratching his eyebrow. "Look, you're a hero, and I don't want to have to publish those. I won't even! As long as you tell me what your relationship is with them."

The press was dirty. She knew that. She remembered the press badgering the older version of her and Draco until they had left the wizarding world altogether. The only reason she had approached them to begin with was to make sure credit was given where it was due.

She let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Both are great men, who have sacrificed a lot to gain back the respect of the wizarding community. Draco and his family were kind enough to take me into their home during a time of need, and Blaise is a good friend of mine who was framed for crimes he didn't commit. That's why I was at their homes. Publish those records if you want. I don't care."

She tried to do some damage control, but she couldn't give information she didn't even know herself.

"I really have to get going. I'm sorry I couldn't answer all your questions," she said, giving the man a nod.

She apparated to the last place she had been before all this, and the only place she could imagine Draco being.

Malfoy manor was one of the most terrifying sights of destruction she had ever seen. It rivaled Hogwarts after the war, although, not nearly as bad as Hogsmeade. Hermione took is as a blessing that there wasn't fire involved, save for the tree line. Had the dragon blown fire... she didn't even want to think of how things would have turned out.

Hermione sat down. Perhaps the mediwitches were right. Maybe she should have stayed.

She looked around for the familiar blonde hair, but only saw rubble and a half-broken building. She wondered if anyone had gotten away from the Knott's house. She'd recognize a few of them if she saw them. If they were going to bring her in to identify her assailants though... she really didn't know if she would be able to handle it without killing them herself. Somehow life in Azkaban didn't seem long enough.

But there were also the ones that weren't there. The ones that didn't play a part in torturing her. The ones that helped them orchestrate the capturing of dragons. The ones that were recruiting or threatening. Those would be the people that got away scot free.

The ministry may be able to track them through the floo, or by their wands... she had to have faith. But where could she even get that faith from? There were more people effected by the war's devastation then this group of rebels, and they still weren't able to arrest or convict all the people on Voldemort's side of the war.

Dammit, who was she kidding? There wasn't going to be some super-long drawn out inquisition like that. The only people even effected by this whole thing were the few shops in Hogsmead- which was nearly fully restored again- the Malfoys and herself.

She wasn't going to fool herself into thinking anyone cared that the Malfoys were attacked, and as for herself, guilty by association is how the press will paint it and after a few days everything will go back to normal.

Normal for everyone else. But not her. The blood, and the pain. She could feel it as if it were still there. She grabbed her knees and pushed herself into her legs. She could picture almost every detail of the room and the people... the monsters.

She'd never asked about Draco's crimes in the war. And if they were anything like that... Like what she had been through. She wouldn't know what to think anymore.

She knew going in she was going to be used as protection for the Malfoys. But why did it seem to go so wrong for her? The day they took her she had been on cloud nine. How could things have gone so terribly wrong that day?

Why did they have to choose that day?

There was a loud pop in front of her, and her heart jumped.

Even after she realized who it was, she couldn't form words.

Draco was not even a foot away from her, blocking the midday sunlight. He was dressed in a white button down shirt with black slacks. He wasn't making a move to sit, nor did he offer a hand to get up.

Hermione sat wide-eyed staring up at him. She wanted to hold him. She wanted him to tell her he was real, like Blaise had.

He put a hand in his pocket and turned to look at the building with Hermione.

"It's a fitting end, don't you think? All the terrible things my family's done coming back to bite us- taking away our sanctuary once and for all."

"A house can be rebuilt."

He stayed silent and looked up. His left hand went up to his eyes, shielding them.

"Herm-" he said, cut off by his own vocals.

And just like that, her world shattered again. "Draco?" she said, finding the strength to push off the ground. She pulled his hand from his face. His eyes were red, and she smelled fresh cologne. "Draco, what's wrong?"

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders tight and nuzzled his face into her neck.

Hermione hugged him back, rubbing his short blond locks. "What's wrong?"

"He's dead... M-my dad. My mum, she- she said he was stable. But she lied to me. She fucking lied."

Suddenly his attire... his demeanor. His anger. It all made sense.

"Did you want me to go with you? To the funeral?"

He shook his head and squeezed her tighter. "It's already over. No one came..." He hiccuped and let go of her. "I don't want to be like that. I don't want my life to end like that. I want more than two people to show up for my funeral. But right now? If I died... who would even care?"

"I would care! You would be missed by so many people."

"Like who? My mum? Blaise, maybe, but even then, he'd probably just be there for you. I have no one. Just like my dad."

Hermione grabbed his cheeks in her hands. Forcing him to look at her. "You have your whole life to find those people. You have so many opportunities in front of you to accomplish so many good things. Your father, in the past few years has managed to destroy most of the bonds he made. You would never make the same mistakes as him."

"You don't understand!" He said, pushing her hands away from his face. "I already made those decisions. I was a fucking Death Eater! I looked up to him. I still do- Hermione- Fuck!"

"You love him," Hermione said. "There's a difference between loving someone and looking up to them."

Draco made a noise between a laugh and a cry.

"I just- He was turning a new leaf- And this-"

Hermione nodded. "I know."

"You don't know," Draco said, shaking his head. "I went to the future. I'd abandoned you. Left you to rot in that cell. You were the Minister of Magic- and batshit crazy. Blaise saved you- it took him ten years- and still, he was the one that saved you."

"Ten years?" she said sitting down on the grass and dirt. "I was in _there_ for ten years?"

"Yeah, obviously, I'm not the good guy. I never have been."

"But you can be! _You_ didn't do those things, not really," she said, hitting her hands on her thighs. "How many times do I have to tell you? You make your own decisions. Stop acting like this."

Draco sat down with her. "I know. I know. I just- I don't know."

It was windy and cold, but Hermione would cast a warming charm every few minutes to keep from leaving.

"Where are you staying?" Hermione asked once he had calmed down.

"I'm not sure yet. I just got back myself. I'll probably stay here."

"Here? You don't even know if it's safe to live in yet."

Draco shrugged. "Might as well start working on it now. At least make some assessments."

"We should look for a place to stay first."

Draco didn't look away from her, letting the words sink in. "Together?" he asked.

"Didn't we agree to move in with each other before all this?"

"That feels like a lifetime ago." His eyebrows knitted together. "And you still want that? Aren't you scared I'll fuck up? What about your studies? What about Blaise?"

She laughed, a small, sweet laugh. "Oh, I know you're going to make me really mad. Rooming with a pompous git will be my greatest challenge yet."

"I'm serious, Hermione. I know you said you would, but aren't you worried?"

"No, not about those things. I'll study and take my N.E.W.T.s in the spring. And Blaise is my friend, and your friend. I love you, Draco, and I can't change that. And he knows th-"

His eyes brightened, and before she could take her next breath, his lips were on hers. Her eyes were open, taking in his smooth skin, his eyelashes grazing his cheekbones, his blond hair brushing his forehead.

He was so beautiful.

Less than twenty four hours ago, she wondered if she'd ever see him again- if she'd ever be able to touch him again, kiss him again, or even get mad at him again.

And yet here he was, like a dream. He was so warm compared to the blistering cold surrounding them. If she was still in that dark cell, and this was their torture, she'd surely let them torture her forever.

She closed her eyes, relaxing into his kiss, letting him take control.

He grabbed the back of her head and laid her gently against the ground, snaking his fingers around her wrists and pinning her hands above her head, melting into the kiss with her.

**Five years later:**

Draco looked over at Hermione for the millionth time that night. It took his breath away every time, and he found himself unable to hold back a smile.

Her father clinked his glass, gathering the room's attention. "I just wanted to share a story that only me, my wife, and the groom know. Three years ago, Draco asked for Hermione's hand in marriage. Of course, I invited him inside, as it was after 11 o'clock on a work night." He gave Draco a reprimanding look. "So, naturally, I was curious as to what my daughter had done to inspire an unannounced visit so late at night. Instead of answering, I asked him, 'What did you do today?' After a very confused look, he answered 'Nothing, really. We went to work, came home, and we ate dinner.'

"That's all it took me to accept that he was serious, and ready for marriage. It hadn't been some grand sweep of romance that had his head in the clouds. He was ready for the mundane, but rewarding, joy of marriage. Although, whatever inspired him on that day in particular to ask is still a mystery. Lord knows he kept Mrs. Granger on her toes for the next two years until he had finally proposed. So, on behalf of me and my wife, congratulations, to both of you."

He stepped around the table, giving Hermione a kiss on her cheek and sat down next to his wife

Narcissa stood, smoothing her blue silk dress before moving to the microphone. She adjusted it to her height, only looking a little out place while re-arranging it.

"As many of you know, I was not the best future mother-in-law when me and Hermione first met." The wizards and witches in the crowd let out a chorus of uncomfortable laughs, leaving the muggles with confused faces. "But when I needed a shoulder to cry on, Hermione was always there, ever the optimist. She single handedly brought me out of my darkest days after losing my husband. She is the smartest and most forgiving wi-woman that I've had the pleasure of knowing, and it is an honour to have someone like her in the family."

It was another sentiment that was lost on the muggles, but meant a great deal to the rest of the room. Someone from the noble house of Black and a current Malfoy, had in one sentence cut ties with her blood purity ideals. Draco smiled ear to ear, finally hearing the words he knew she felt, but hadn't actually said before.

The music went back on, and Hermione went to dance with her friends. Blaise took the chair next to him, folding his arms.

"There's an awful lot of people here."

"I know. There's even muggles," Draco said, watching Harry spin Hermione around.

"I was wondering why there are no enchanted birds…"

"It's a little less… ostentatious, I think. Without all the typical wedding stuff," Draco said. "Have you found a girl to victimize yet?"

"Not a one. The muggles- It would be hard to deal with someone without magic, and the witches… they're either taken or they're Pansy."

"Pansy's not the only single witch here."

"I know. Maybe I'm just not into the whole 'get a date at a wedding' scene. Mind if I ask her to dance?" Blaise asked.

Draco didn't have to ask who to know. It had been five years since Hogwarts, and although they both seemed to get over the romantic bits of their friendship, Draco still couldn't help getting a bit nervous when they would see each other.

It had taken them only a few months to make up, and Draco didn't start seeing Blaise for months after that. And that was only because Hermione had managed to trick him into meeting him at a pub.

"Go ahead. Just remember she's spoken for."

Blaise pushed his chair out and put a hand over his heart. "Draco, have you ever known me to have inappropriate intentions?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Just go. Before I change my mind."

He watched as Blaise asked Hermione to dance. She looked back at him, and Draco nodded back. He was glad they were all able to get over the mess they created years ago.

He trusted them both, but that didn't mean he didn't get a tad jealous when Blaise whispered something and Hermione laughed.

But she was his. And that was all that mattered.


End file.
